RedButterfly
by The Lady Frost
Summary: A crimson kiss. A life time of moments he can hardly hold onto. A mysterious butterfly that never quite fits into the palm of his hand. Photo merge of Sparkyinthemoonlight and DemonLeon3D deviantarts.
1. Butterfly1

**Part One: White Knight Syndrome**

* * *

_**In every good fairy tale there is a simple formula. A dashing hero, a dazzling damsel in distress, an evil villain and a heroic battle to save the world. This story, dear readers, is no different.**_

_**Well…maybe a little different...**_

_**Currently our dashing hero found himself less than dashing as he was dangling upside down by his ankles in a room that smelled of formaldehyde and disinfectant. Subtly, somewhere under that, was the smell of death. It wouldn't be the last time he found himself this way...but it would be the first time he was AWARE that he was being rescued by one other than himself.**_

_**A hero needing a hero.**_

_**How, you may ask, did our hero come to be here? Well…that's a story for another time. This is, after all, Resident Evil and there are no quaint towers and no white knights. There are, however, heroes that rise from nothing to save the day. So come with me and let us see what becomes of a hero when he's in need of saving...**_

_**Our tale really begins with the rescue of our dashing hero by a dazzling damsel who, it would seem, was not in distress at all...**_

* * *

**Umbrella Holding Facility Compound - August - 2005**

* * *

One of his eyes was crusted shut with dried blood. How long had he been hanging here? A day? A year? It was hard to say since all the blood had rushed to his head and he could barely remember his name let alone how long he'd been dangling in the dark.

He had a vague recollection about how he'd come to be here. There was the image of flying fists, of fire and a fierce battle over a flaming pit. There was a face in there, a beautiful face with cool eyes the color of dark skies.

Images blurred and churned in his mind, confusion drifting in to mix with reality until he wasn't sure what he remembered and what he'd imagined. Our hero let out a groan as his head started pounding again, the pleasant numbness of the moment before lost beneath burgeoning conscious thought.

It was hard to see in the semi darkness around him but what he could make out was deformed things in tanks. Limbs and eyes and tentacles encased in glass tubes and floating in liquid of different colors. Directly in front of him was something that might have been a man once. It was tall and had arms as long as it's body with claws as big as mans chest for hands. All five fingers of the claws were razor sharp, glinting in the flickering lights. A great pulsing mass upon it's chest showed that thing was breathing, likely in stasis until whoever was breeding it came along to release it's horror upon the world. The face was skeletal but still vaguely human, showing a place where a nose should go and cheekbones below very human shaped closed eyes. In all, our hero judged the thing in the tube to be eight feet tall and scary as shit.

The other tubes contained things he hadn't thought to see outside of _Alien._ He might have used an allegory like _Monsters INC_. or something but that seemed too jovial of a comparison. Were they monkeys? Dogs? It was hard to judge but it seemed likely. He sort of made out a shape that looked like a man sized frog a few tubes away. What kind sick shit pit had he fallen in to?

There was a clatter and the sound of approaching feet. Closing his eyes, he pretended to be sleeping.

Voices came, slow but distinct in the distance.

"He's still out. I think we should start the testing."

"No. No way dude. You know what she said man. She said Wesker would turn our balls into earrings if we so much as touch a hair on his head man."

"Well eventually his head is going to explode or something dude. He can't keep dangling like that."

There was a loud sigh. "Ok. Ok. Let's turn him up. We'll chain him to the Tyrant tank. That'll keep him from trying to escape."

"Hell yeah it will. I wouldn't want to accidentally crack that tank and free it from stasis."

With a grunt of assent, the two voices came closer and our hero found himself being hoisted upright with the grind and whir of a machine. When he was parallel to the floor, one of them released his ankles. He let his body drop boneless to the cold metal. This place was as sterile as a cotton ball.

There was the rattle of chains being removed from his ankles.

"What was the name of this guy again?"

"Eh…" A rustle of papers. "Kennedy. Leon S. Kennedy."

"Ohhhh yeah. Spook type guy right?"

"Yeah. Some hot shit special agent type. Nick name was Ghost because he could slip in and out without ever being seen."

"Ha. Guess somebody saw him. At least long enough to stick a tranq dart in his ass."

"No shit."

The chains on his hands were rattled and released. One of the two voices was dragging him over toward the tank with the nasty monster in it. It was an unpleasant tango that he was NOT thrilled to begin.

Leon cracked an eye and waited for the right moment.

"Jesus this guy weighs a ton. He's all fucking muscle. You think he works out?"

"Shut up, you puss. What kind of gay ass question is that? You want to cop a feel while we're at it or what? Don't drop him. Keep your hand outta his pants. And take his other arm."

"Eat me, dude. I'm just saying he's fucking huge. One of us should get the tranq gun, just in case."

He was unceremoniously dumped on one of the men who grunted at his total dead weight. Staggering a little, the man croaked, "Hurry up dude. He's heavy."

The figure returned carrying a silver tranq gun. "Okay." He tucked it into his waist band. "Let's finish moving him."

They each took an arm and drug him the last few feet to the tank.

"Here wrap his arm around there and I'll cuff it and hook it to this one."

"'kay.

"Don't know why you needed the gun dude. He's out cold. What's he gonna do?"

_**In story telling this is what's known as foreshadowing: A moment when something occurs that subtly lets the reader know of impending events. What would he do indeed? And so our hero said...**_

"This." Leon mused and jerked his left arm. The geek holding it smashed face first against the heavy glass tube, knocking his glasses aside and breaking his nose. He shrieked and the other one dropped Leon's opposing arm to try to draw the tranq gun from his waist band.

Leon beat him to it. He grabbed the gun himself and pulled the trigger against the man's skinny stomach. With a gurgling grunt, the dork fell backwards; out like a light.

The other was still shrieking and clutching his gushing nose as he scuttled backwards across the floor like a discombobulated crab. He hit the wall a few feet away with his back and started moaning. He was making some kind of noise like a horny cat.

Hefting the tranq gun, Leon followed him. His head swam and swirled at gaining his feet but he shook it off and knelt. He pressed the gun to the geek's temple.

"Listen up, dork. And listen well. I only want to hear two things come out of your mouth in the next five seconds: The way out of here and what's going to try to stop me along the way."

The geek spilled the beans. It was rather disappointing really. He didn't have to crack skulls or anything. No bamboo slivers, no burning off ears, nothing. Sad.

He was, well, naked. So he'd had enough presence of mind to knock out the geek and steal his lab coat and pants. The pants were snug as hell and the white shirt beneath the coat fit like a second skin but it was better than being naked. Inspired, Leon also hand cuffed both geeks to each other hugging the Tyrant tank. It seemed fitting given their idea of how to tie him up.

He slipped out into the sterile hallway, clipping one of the geeks ID badges to the lab coat. It was the one who most resembled him. All they really had in common was dark blonde hair but it was better than nothing.

He passed a few more lab geeks on his way through the twisting corridors. A general description from the geek with the broken nose had given Leon some idea of how to leave the tunnels of freakish torture in which he found himself ensconced.

Leon was half way home free when the first real trouble struck. One of the stupid geeks actually had the nerve to look at him. Then she glanced at his ID.

"Hey…you're not Elmo!"

Aside from the fact that he wasn't aware that any real person was named ELMO, Leon found himself in a bit of a conundrum. Did he silence the girl? He wasn't a fan of hitting women in general but this one was hurrying toward a big red button on the wall that just screamed "ALARM". Of course it might also have been the self destruct button for the lab. Lord knew these Umbrella wienies were constantly blowing their own shit up as a general means of not having to deal with their issues.

"Hey!"

She froze.

"If you hit that button there, I'm going to shoot you."

There, he thought, that was reasonable enough right? But the silly girl was still inching toward the button even with a gun aimed at her. Sometimes there was no making sense of the female brain.

"Perhaps you think you are faster than a speeding bullet?" He queried, though technically it was a dart. But still.

"Maybe."

On a sigh, Leon moved toward her. She squeaked and threw the only thing she had in her hand at him. It was really degrading to admit how bad his reflexes were and how impaired his body was that he couldn't even dodge a bottle of YooHoo. It was also really sad that his brain staggered out of reality long enough to remind him how much he loved YooHoo.

The bottle clipped him just above his left ear. He grunted and careened into the wall beside him. The girl squeaked again and then did what any self respecting person at gun point would do - she hightailed it away from him screaming for help.

"Heeeelp! This guy killed Elmo!"

Unfairly, Leon figured it was a far fall from the Ghost to the Guy Who Killed Elmo. He'd be the most hated person on Sesame Street. It was a pretty epic fail.

Leon stumbled, vision spotted. He bumped into a desk laden with computer stuff that bleeped and blared alarmingly at the intrusion. A very loud boom behind him told him he'd better move his ass because, oh yeah, someone was now shooting at him.

A bullet buried itself in his left arm just above the elbow as Leon more rolled than ran out of the room. Somehow he'd managed to swipe the girls card key off the table as he did so, hurrying down the long, narrow hallway toward a set of doors at the end.

Voices were shouting and feet were pounding after him. He felt the hot whiz of another bullet and knew he'd never make it. He was too weak, his body too tired, his brain too shocky to be able to compete with four armed men giving chase down one small hallway. It was pathetic and perfectly human.

Just as he had about to decided to turn and rush the men in a final act of bravado, the doors at the end of the hallway whooshed open. Standing in them was a goddess. Or an amazon. He wasn't sure which. He never was with her.

But either way, she was likely there to kill hi-

"Get down."

And he did. Just like that.

He dropped to the floor and the vixen opened fire. There were shouts that were quickly cut off and turned to gurgles of death. The symphony of death was quite musical to his half numb ears.

Lying on the floor, Leon was pretty sure he was about to die. His vision fuzzy, he glanced up as the vixen knelt beside him. She was gorgeous, all Amazonian warrior queen. Lots of dark eyes and PERFECT tits. Which was, not at all, relevant to staying alive.

"Leon...long time no see."

"Mmm."

"I wonder if I can ever find you when you aren't in peril. Perhaps it's my unfortunate calling in life to protect you."

That was just like her.

She was ALWAYS a bit snarky and tongue in cheek. She was, also in this moment at least, apparently right.

"Rest now, Mr. Hero. I'll make sure the bad guys don't ruin your pretty face."

There was NOTHING he hated worse than knowing he owed Ada Wong a favor.

When it came to her?

Always Wong, never right.

Puns.

His curse on the world. And the last thought he had before he blacked out.

* * *

_**A:N: **Think you've read this? You have. I stalled on it before but have the itch to Ada and Leon again. Fun little run ins with them over the years. It'll bounce through time as I see fit. _


	2. Butterfly2

**Part One: White Knight Syndrome**

* * *

**_A desperate chase. A dashing prince. A beautiful spy with a dangerous game. _**

**_Some stories aren't meant to be fairytales._**

* * *

**Mincoxit Mining Camp -Adjacent**

**Outside Umbrella Holding Facility Compound - August - 2005**

* * *

His wounds were infected. The fever raged in him. It made his skin seering to the touch. It made the blue of his eyes peaked and hollow when he bothered to open them at all.

He tossed on the bed, gasping and pained.

She studied him, curious.

When he tossed and knocked aside the table that waited with the water and the rage to cool him, her patience wavered.

All he had to do was SURVIVE until his damn rescue came.

That was it.

Why was EVEN THAT too hard for him?

She shifted toward him.

He was naked beneath the sheet she'd spread over his firey flesh. The heat of his body penetrated the thin fabric and made them dewy to the touch.

Ada caught one flailing hand and pressed it to his chest. "Stop, Leon. Desist. If you keep tossing about, you're going to alert them."

They weren't safe. Not even close.

She'd evacuated him from the compound, at no great risk to herself, but the only safe spot was her small hideout that was the maintenance shed on the grounds. It was PERFECT and ABANDONED. No one knew it was here. But it would draw attention if he didn't SHUT UP.

His back up was coming in less than three hours. He just needed to STAY QUIET.

She pinned his hands to his naked chest while he murmured and cursed in his sleep. His dreams, it seemed, were as fitful as his life. When was the last time he'd STOPPED? Not since Raccoon City, clearly.

His eyes opened, glassy and empty. He shouted at her, "You think you can take me alive!?"

Idiot.

First he got captured being a stupid boy hero and protecting the girl in the pit where she'd found him. The girl? The "witness" he'd been trying to protect? Had left him there to die.

They'd taken him and made her life that much harder.

He was still useful. When he wasn't being a white knight. When he wasn't being outnumbered and a fool without a prayer. She'd saved him in Spain. She'd saved him again in that pit.

She'd saved him now.

She was getting tired of saving him.

Her hand lifted and slapped his feverish face.

He grunted and fell silent, slumping on the mattress. "...you mean to keep me then."

"Yes." She eyed him, "Hold your tongue, Leon. Lie there and shut up. It's not difficult."

"The Ganado are COMING! You think I'll just wait for them?" And he proceeded to curse at her in a very lovely Spanish. It was ok. Until he started shouting again, "LET ME UP! YOU STUPID BI-"

She put her other hand over his mouth. It was necessary but it cost her the hand that had been holding her down.

He surged against her, caught her to him, and rolled her beneath him on the bed.

She let him, hoping it would keep him quiet.

The sheet shifted around them and she could feel the line of his thighs.

He muttered from behind her hand.

Carefully, she withdrew it slightly, "What?"

"Why are you here, Ada?"

Sometimes he made sense. She studied him from her place beneath the boiling heat of his body. His face was flushed but he was lingering intelligently again behind those eyes. "You don't remember?"

He shook his head, trying to clear it, "Is this real?"

"It's the fever. You're alive but wounded. Help is coming. I need you to stay quiet, Leon. Or you'll bring them down on us. We both know if it comes to a battle, you're useless and I can't fight them all."

"...implying what? You'll leave me?"

"To save myself? Naturally."

He shook his head again, sending his shaggy hair around his face in a tangle. "No. NO!" He was back to shouting, "I have to SAVE ASHLEY!"

"There is no Ashley here. Focus, Leon. Focus. You're safe. But you need to stay with me."

His eyes slid back to her face. They slid down her throat and the smooth skin of her collarbone. The black and red vest she wore clung to the red tank top beneath it. It was paired brilliantly with skin tight leather pants. A good outfit for fighting.

Not so good for sitting in a shack boiling with summer heat.

Sweat slid down between her breasts from the column of her throat, and his eyes followed it.

That was fine. He could stare all he wanted if it kept him quiet.

Leon shifted his eyes back to her face. "Where are you HIDING HER!?"

Damnit.

"Shut up, fool."

"I will burn this place down around our ears if y-"

Speaking of ears, she grabbed his and brought him to her. Her mouth was merciless, giving no chance for retreat. She thrust her tongue into his and stole his breath. There...was the only real way to get a man to shut up.

He resisted at first, trying to pull away, and she sealed their mouths like a pro. With a pop of pressure, she let him go enough to hiss, "Stop, fool. Stop fighting. Stay quiet now, Leon. Alright?."

"Ada?"

Confusion. It was the nature of a fever.

"ADA!?"

DAMN HIM. Idiot.

"Shhh. It's a dream. It's all a dream, Leon. Alright? Just...a dream. Give in."

He did, almost manically. It was insane. One minute - resisting. The next - attacking. He all but threw the sheet to the side to give her the weight of him.

His mouth plunged, hers lunged up to meet him. A good kiss - firey and wet. Not their first, certainly not their last, and tempered by the flames of his fever on their merging skin.

He gasped a little as they separated, searching for air, "...I can't think..."

"No need for that now. Kiss me again."

There was THAT, as well. He always did that to her. She enjoyed him. She'd never had him. Not like this. Not exactly. A few passes in the dark. A few flirtations and touches. And kisses when she wanted him to play a game with her.

She'd used him and tortured him for years.

She liked it.

He played the game so well without trying.

She liked using him. It suited her. She enjoyed his company, to a certain extent. He was clever and charming, fashionable and funny, and useful in more ways than one. He was fast and skilled, deadly like nothing she'd ever seen when it called for it, and willing to compromise to save a mission. He wasn't entirely good and wasn't entirely bad. He straddled the line when it suited him.

A trait they shared. And one she exploited when she needed to.

His body thrilled her. He was hard and muscled, smooth and silky, honed and handsome. He was her physical equivalent.

That was about right, Ada thought, the situation was poorly timed but perfectly timed. One - he was out of it. He'd think he was dreaming if he remembered it at all.

Two - she wanted him in her control. She wanted him QUIET. If he got them detected just by being ill, she'd have to kill him. She didn't want to kill him.

Three - she wanted him in a sheerly feminine way. And she often indulged in the things she wanted. It was her one gift to herself when she'd freed herself from the shackles of her past.

If she wanted it, she took it. It was that simple.

She shifted her hands to back to stroke him, watching his flushed face. He was trying so hard to figure out what was real and what wasn't. Without sympathy, Ada instructed, "Kiss me again. They'll find us if you make any noise, Leon. Kiss me and stay quiet."

He trembled, delighting her, and spilled down into a push up motion above her. She kept working him, rolling him in her relentless fist. His mouth took hers, tasting, almost tender.

She bit at his lips and hissed a little.

And he stopped being tender.

They kissed wet and furious. They kissed hard and fast.

He was quivering above her. From fever? From need? Likely both.

Ada jerked him back atop her, looping her ankles around his ass. Eyes burning, guts churning, he rasped out, "Is this real, Ada? Are you real?"

"Does it matter?"

A good question.

And she demanded, "Be still now and listen."

He did. He went still. He was still trained better than almost anyone else she'd met. The government had spent valuable time and resources making him their eager warrior. He was practically perfect from his tousled hair to to his pretty toes.

She kept him quiet until the evacuation team came to find him. She handed him over under orders for him to taken to safety. Her team never questioned her. She paid them well to do her bidding. She paid them well for their silence.

Leon didn't even argue. Too sick. To out of it. He just did as she asked without question.

Like he'd done in Spain for the cure. He did it now - he trusted her. Even if she didn't deserve it.

She loved that he did as she requested of him. Eager. Young. He was utterly delicious. And sick or not, he was still trained to be **_aware. _**Of her. Of this. Of danger. He knew she was his best hope of survival.

He was good in Spain when she'd found him again. But now?

He was better.

He was better now than the first time he'd put his mouth on her. Even his kisses had a flavor that intrigued her.

Age had given him skill to match the eagerness. He flicked and delved, kissed and rolled, sucked and slid. It was a brutal, beautiful, bone melting assault. Her eager mouth accepted his like a feast.

The first time - he'd been so sweet. An eager boy.

She'd tracked him down after Raccoon City. She'd slipped into the hotel room where they'd shoved him after he'd agreed to work for them to spare the girl. He was going to be trained, it seemed, for black ops for undercover...for elite. She knew, the moment he said yes, she was going to get him in her pocket as an informant - willing or not. Whether he knew it or not, he was now hers. And she was going to make sure he stayed that way until she was done with him.

It didn't hurt at all that she was painfully attracted to him. His eager, excited, goody goody boy next door looks suited her. He was adorable, in a young, wet behind the ears way.

But his body wasn't. His body wasn't anything but delectable. Honed and perfect. Maybe not such a simple thing, she mused, you had to train hard to look that good.

The deal was looking better and better. Owning an informant could sometimes be enjoyable.

And she'd known the moment he emerged from the shower to find her in his room, that she was going to enjoy the hell out of the game of possessing Leon Kennedy.

The more they played, the more the game bound them both. She had somehow linked herself inextricably to a man who worked on the other side of the great divide. It was terribly within her enjoyment to bounce to whichever side suited her agenda.

She worked with or for whomever she wanted.

But somehow she always ended up tied to Leon Kennedy.

Apparently, a filthy city had been the beginning of a life time of little moments that would wind them together like snakes.

* * *

**_The game began in the rain on the darkest night of their lives..._**

* * *

**NEST- Raccoon City - 1998**

* * *

There was a moment where she knew she might have over played her hand. As the cable car guided them to Nest, as she knew she was too wounded to walk the distance to get the sample, she knew she had to get the rookie cop to help her. Manipulating men was often as simple as flashing a long slide of thigh...but he was different.

Determined and brave, he didn't flinch like normal men faced with the horrors they'd seen. He rolled with it. He ran with it. He raced against time to help her without knowing she was the thing he should be destroying.

He'd been so confused - if she was FBI...how was she here alone? If she was FBI, where was the back up? Where was the cavalry? Where was the evacuation? Why did she need him?

"But I don't understand how that ca-"

And she'd gripped the side of his face to kiss him.

It was the first time she realized that kissing him was the perfect way to gain his silence.

He stopped talking to let her.

As she leaned back, she said, "I like you, Leon," Hell, that part was _true _she didn't even need to fake it, "I need your help. If I could do it myself, I would. But I can't. We can't let the sample fall into the wrong hands. I need you to trust me. I need you to help me. I want to see you again. But we have to..."

He studied her, shrewdly, with those blue eyes that said he _wanted _to believe her...but he had a dozen reasons to doubt her.

Her hand slid against his knee, around the inside of his thigh. He glanced between it and her face. Eagerly, she pleaded, "Please...help me. So I can make sure this never happens again."

There.

Perfect.

She appealed to his need to protect. It was what made him a cop. She knew, as she pushed the button, that he'd do it. He'd do it to save the world. He was just that kind of man.

And he did. The rookie. The kid. He walked alone into the NEST and came back with that sample. It was how she knew there was no one else on Earth like him.

On the bridge, facing him, she knew someone had spilled the beans about her. Someone knew she was a liar.

His face...she'd never forget it.

He held the sample out like a taunting red flag to a furious bull. "This what you want?"

It was. But she didn't need it. She didn't need it at all. She'd stolen a sample from the idiot that tried to take the cable car to safety while she was sitting on it. She had a sample. She didn't need the one Leon carried anymore.

But she couldn't let him have it either.

Ada shook her head, lifting her gun. "Don't do this. Please. Leon...give it to me. Come with me. Let me protect you."

Surprised, he arched his brows, "From whom? You're the bad guy, Ada! Tell me it's not true. Tell me you haven't been screwing me from the moment we met. Tell me I'm wrong."

She lifted the gun to eye level on him. "Please...don't make it personal. It's my job. But I can protect you. Give me the sample. Drop the gun and come with me. Come with me now and I'll get you out. I'll make sure you are protected."

He shook his head - and raised his gun on her. "From whom!? Who wants me dead? You're the threat here, Ada. You are!"

The bridge began to collapse around them. She thought - _he's going to hold that gun on me until we both die...boy scout._

She raised her tone to a level of demand, "Give me the sample and walk away. Now, Leon. Don't make me kill you."

Leon laughed, derisively, "You won't kill me, Ada. We both know that. Drop the fucking gun."

She itched her finger over the smooth trigger. She thought about it. But she hated killing. She hated it. It wasn't in her nature to slaughter unless necessary. And she'd meant it - she liked him.

She lowered the gun, laughing, "You clever bastard. So what now?"

"I guess we see how badly you want this sample."

He held it out over the edge of the bridge, over the abyss, "Go fetch, Ada."

He dropped the sample. The bridge pitched and spilled her forward. And the gun went off. Simultaneously. Back to back to back.

She tumbled. Leon stumbled. At the arch way, Annette called, "No sample for anyone now...you fucking bitch."

And the bridge cracked and spilled Ada toward the darkness as the pain ate away at her common sense. The shot was good. Her shoulder wept copiously onto her red dress. Red - her signature color.

She tumbled -and underestimated that rookie cop. He grabbed her and didn't let her fall.

Ada gripped his forearm in surprise as she swung above the abyss. "Leon! Let go of me! Are you insane? This lab is done for! Run!"

He grunted, holding onto her, "Climb up, Ada. Ok? Climb up. Give me your other hand!"

Big hero. He wouldn't let her fall. Even though he knew...she was the bad guy.

Ada tilted her head, watching his face. "...you are better than this, Leon. Don't let them keep you. Do you hear me? When you get out of here? You run. Don't look back. Don't let them manipulate you. You're better than this."

"Ada...for god's sake...grab my other hand."

"I can't. I'm sorry. Let go, Leon. Let go."

She did. She let go. She tumbled as the bridge pitched. He tried to hang on, he really did, but his forearm was sweaty and his grip weak from his own gunshot wound. He lost her.

She pitched into the darkness and heard him shout.

Halfway into the dark, she activated the emergency flush system with her EMF Visualizer. She hit the water. She heard it rush her toward the neighboring tunnel. Her body hit the wall and flipped. It was the best she could do to stay alive.

She awoke in the water listening to traffic on the highway.

The emergency flush had pushed her through the bowels of the lab and out the sewage system to the world beyond. She should have been dead, but she was alive. She doctored her wounds and limped toward the highway.

She battled back from her own illness for four days following that night.

She woke up in a filthy hovel while Vernon the "on call doc" worked to keep her fever down and disinfect her wounds. Her leg was a mess. Her shoulder no better. She'd wondered if she'd even survive it. Vernon cleaned her wounds with vodka and stitched her up with nylon. He was the best she'd get from a company that refused to acknowledge she was alive until she turned in the sample.

She found Leon two weeks after Raccoon City, stashed away in a hotel room in Zurich. The fool. He'd let them manipulate him into working for them.

She'd been too sick, too hurt, and too slow to stop him.

So now he was the bitch boy for Simmons.

Damnit.

The anger at failing to protect him from his own martyrdom annoyed her.

She wanted to tell him all about Simmons and Wesker and the conspiracy that operated madly behind the doors he'd yet to open. But she couldn't. He had to find the answers on his own. He had to. It was the only way he'd believe.

But she'd keep tabs on him until he was ready.

She meant it - he was too good to lose to the fight this soon. He might even be the thing that turned the tide - when the timing was right. When she was ready.

He might be the key to her own freedom.

So she slipped into the hotel room where they kept him and into the shower like a ghost. Fully dressed, she stepped into the heavy spray behind him.

As he turned, her hand shot out and over his mouth. It covered his sound of surprise as she pressed him to the tiled wall and spoke, softly, "The bugs they have in this room are sound oriented. What they hear, right now, is you in the shower. They haven't started watching you yet, but they will if you give them a reason. I can't stay long - but listen, and listen closely, to what I 'm going to say to you. Will you?"

He scanned her face shrewdly. She watched the intelligence flash on him before he nodded and she removed her hand from his mouth.

"Good. There are forces in play that I can't even begin to explain right now. I told you to run."

He shook his head and hissed, "I couldn't. The little girl, they t-"

"...you fucking hero." She said it without rancor, "It doesn't matter why anymore. It's done. You're theirs now. They will train you. They will try to corrupt you. Understand me when I tell you - there are snakes in your garden of eden, Leon. Snakes. Do not trust anyone."

He tilted his head, "Like you?"

"Don't trust me either. But whatever else you do...remember that you are a tool to them. You are a weapon. Do what they want. Play the game. Get the answers. Get in where you can. So you can fight them."

They held gazes in the steaming air. He shook his head and murmured, "Why do you care what happens to me?"

Her hands shifted. She gripped his ears and brought him to her. He let her and his hand gripped her arms above the elbows on the red rain coat she wore.

Against his mouth, she murmured, "I meant what I said...I like you. Stay alive. I'll see you around, LEon."

She pressed a kiss to his mouth and shoved him away, leaving the shower.

In the quiet heat left behind, he shook his head. He rubbed his hands over his face and laughed without humor. Staring at the mirror beyond the curtain that showed she was gone.

Quietly, under his breath, he lamented, "...women."

Apparently this one? She was about to become the story of his life.


	3. Butterfly3

**Part One: White Knight Syndrome**

* * *

**_A hero hell bent on saving the world. A spy with nothing to lose._**

**_An unlikely duo trying to thwart a conspiracy._**

**_He just might be the key to a future without fear - if she can just keep him alive long enough to get there._**

* * *

The phone call in the middle of the night surprised her. She rolled, her hand skimming the smooth white handset to lift it to her ear. She didn't acknowledge the person on the other end even as the voice intoned, "...I need your help."

Her eyes blinked blearily at the clock across from her bed. Three a.m. - hours before dawn and yet hours after acceptable social hours. Three a.m...the hour you called to bring news of the dead, or the hour you called to invite someone to your bed.

Booty call hours.

But it wasn't a booty call.

In response, Ada murmured, "Good to hear your voice, Leon. You sound tired."

There was a shuffle of noise from his end before he answered, "I'm sorry to call so late. I didn't know who else to call. You left this number on that card. I thought-"

"It's alright." She sat up and the moonlight spilled across her bare breasts as she cradled the phone between shoulder and ear, "What do you need?"

She heard him hesitate and encouraged, "I'm on your side here, Leon."

"Are you?"

Sighing, Ada rolled to light a cigarette, "Unless someone pays me not to be. So far, the price to help Umbrella is too high. Tell me what you need."

"A girl I escaped with Claire Redfield?"

"The redhead?"

"Yes. Yeah. She's...she's in trouble. Big trouble. She tried to infiltrate an Umbrella compound...alone. She was working off a lead that her brother was there."

It would never fail to surprise her how impetuous youth could be. Incredibly, terribly, desperately stupid of a girl with no training to try to go alone against an army of trained assassins...but she admired the balls.

"I see. And this concerns me how?"

She heard him shift. Her head tilted as she listened to the noises outside whatever phone booth he was calling from. It sounded like a train passing. Not a subway train. A real train. She checked the caller ID on her base and determined the area code was Boston. He simply wasn't good enough at covering his tracks yet.

But he'd get there.

"They took her. She emailed me from some server that bounced four times around various mirror sites before I could stop it. The prison she's being held in is infested. It's lost. She says its completely compromised. I need-" He trailed off and Ada arched her brows, listening to what he _wasn't _saying.

"...are you involved with this girl?"

The quiet stretched for a handful of moments before he came back to her. "I don't know. I don't know anything. I can't find her. I need Chris. I need her brother. He can track a fart on a foggy day...I need to find him to find her."

Curious, Ada tapped her nails on her knee. He didn't say it, but this girl mattered. Girlfriend? It was irrelevant, given what she needed from him, but the little tug of jealousy amused her. It was like finding out someone else was coveting the car you were buying. It wouldn't change who drove it, of course, but it surprised Ada to find she wasn't fond of the idea of another woman in his bed.

Amused, Ada replied, "I'll find him. Where can I reach you?"

"Uh...I probably shouldn't s-"

"I can find you too, Leon. Or you can tell me. You prefer I relay classified information over an open line?"

She heard him shift in the booth, "Of course not. Right. I'm in Boston at the Biltmore. How long-?"

"I'll see you in six hours." She hung up the phone. She already knew where he was. She'd tracked him perfectly during their phone call. His location was flashing on her palm pilot even as she rolled to her feet.

He didn't like coming to her for help. She could almost taste his disdain at the idea. But he'd done it. Why? To help the same girl he'd sold his freedom for.

She flipped on her laptop and tapped keys, digging up information on Claire Redfield. Pretty girl - young and eager eyed like the boy who'd escaped that city with her. She had notations on the file The Organization had on her about her survival training. Training? The girl was barely out of highschool. But the notations told a story about a brother with military training that raised a sister after a parental passing. It said Redfield had wiped her tears and taught her to kick people in the balls when they made her cry.

According to the data, she was likely more capable of survival than Leon had been during that whole ordeal.

It listed her as the likely source of the demise of Birkin.

Curious, Ada tilted her head. Had she gone toe to toe with mutated G and survived?

She wasn't just a girl - she was a bad ass.

Impressed and respectful, Ada jotted down notes in her palm pilot about the girl. Ultimately, it meant Claire Redfield couldn't be directly involved with Leon Kennedy for any measurable amount of time. Eventually, she'd begin to sniff out the association between him and Ada. She was smart enough to find out the whole game before it even began.

Which meant?

Claire had to go.

Was it best to leave her marooned on whatever island she was on to meet her own demise?

Probably.

But Leon would never trust her again if she didn't help him locate the girl. She needed his trust. She needed him in her pocket. But she could keep him from being the hero that chased the girl. She could send the BROTHER after Claire. Maybe it would net her a sample of whatever was happening there at the same time it took care of the threat of exposure.

Ada tapped keys, tracking the location of the email Claire had sent.

It bounced servers like a ping pong ball, avoiding her detection.

But not for long. What had Leon said? Find a fart on a foggy day? She'd been playing find the fart for as long as Chris Redfield had been alive. Ok. Maybe not that long. But she was good at working the system to locate a mole.

Ada pinpointed Claire Redfield in eighteen minutes of skimming off layers. It was like someone _wanted _her to be easy to find. The moment Ada clicked on the last barrier and dropped the location, she caught the ghost in the system tracking her.

Someone was _watching her find Claire Redfield._

Interested, Ada let them track her. She led them a merry chase for a moment, bouncing the signal around to see how far they'd follow while she found her way back to them. After a handful of minutes the trace turned up a familiar IP address - a masked IP out of Switzerland. A familair country to use to code interest from The Organization.

Her own employers were looking into Redfield?

Why?

A shiver speared over her spine. Not The Organization. No. Not directly...but one specific member operating on his own agenda.

Albert Wesker.

Curious, Ada tilted her head again, "What game are you playing?"

To find that out - she had to let him locate Redfield on Rockfort Island. She needed to know what he was after there. All the data told the story of the once genius Alexia Ashford and her viral legacy. Wesker was after whatever she'd been breeding there in that prison. What was it? Ada knew she'd let him find it and bring it back.

Why?

Because she needed it. And the easiest way was to get it from him.

And if Redfield and his sister survived? Well they'd know that Wesker had too. They'd be on to him. She'd had another pair of people working indirectly to help her toward victory against her own chains that bound her.

Win...win...win.

She just had to keep Leon out of it.

The best way to do that? How else?

A distraction.

It was time to tell him about Sheena Island.

* * *

**Boston - 1998**

* * *

The cafe at the corner of Wilkes and Biltmont was little more than a greasy spoon with good fried latkes. A german flair for flavor had inspired the cook to bring her home cuisine the palates of the Americans that littered the faded booths at nine in the morning before work.

Leon was sipping coffee when Ada slid into the booth across from him.

She glanced at the plate of potatoes and back at his face. "Your cholesterol won't thank you."

He shrugged, watching her behind the polarized sunglasses he wore. "My stomach will. Right on schedule, Ada. What do you got?"

Ada, in a trench coat and sunglasses herself, crossed her long legs beneath the table and shrugged. She slid a small manila envelope across the red table top to him. "I tapped into your email and forward the location to Redfield. Surprisingly, he wasn't hard to find. He's operating with a paramilitary group off radar in Russia. He's sniffing around after the Caucasus region over there and the rumors of an Umbrella stronghold where they're amplifying strains of the tyrant initiative we thought they'd destroyed in Raccoon. I ghosted your account to get him the information."

Leon tapped his fingers on the table, looking irritated. "Why? I said to get me the location. I could have gone after her myself."

"You could," Ada tapped the folder, "But I need you for something else. Let Redfield get his sister. This can't wait."

Leon inhaled sharply like he was gearing up to argue.

Ada lifted a hand to halt him. "Please. Read the file. You'll see I'm right here. Do you have someone you trust? Someone out of the loop here? You need to get in touch with them and go. There's no time to waste."

Leon tapped his fingers twice more before he spun the folder toward him to open it. He set down his sunglasses to read the information. He read, swiftly, pursing his lips as he went. His gaze lifted to hers and Ada nodded.

"Yes. Exactly."

Sheena Island was Umbrella's breeding ground. It was a city entirely owned and operated by the corrupt pharmaceutical company. Where Raccoon had been in their pocket, Sheena was their Mecca. The island contained a facility dedicated entirely to evolution of the T-Virus. An outbreak recently had signaled that someone, or something, was digging around in their archives and trying to get their research.

Ada suspected Wesker but there was nothing on that island that would point Leon to the former S.T.A.R.S. captain. So for now, it was safe to send him there to investigate. His training would keep him alive. And the outbreak needed squashed.

Leon murmured, "They're taking hostages to experiment on."

"Yes. Without compunction. You don't know what you'll find there, Leon. But I suspect you'll see something even worse than that idiot with the bowlers cap we encountered in Raccoon."

Leon tapped his boot on the ground, looking torn. To encourage it, Ada told him, "Redfield can get to Claire. You know that. But we're the only two people in the world that know about Sheena Island. Help me like I've helped you. I need you."

That worked.

She watched it echo on his face. He couldn't say no to the need. The hero in him just had to help. All the faces of the people dying she'd left in the folder were the kicker. He picked up a picture of a little girl turned into a zombie and shook his head.

Sadly, he remarked, "I'll handle it."

"Thank you." She slid from the booth. "I'm glad you called, Leon. I want you to know that if I can help you, I will."

He glanced up at her beside him in the booth. "I wish I could believe that, Ada. I really do." He looked it. He looked like he wanted to trust her. But he was too smart to do that. "I wish I could figure out what you want from me. What does helping me get you?"

He was too smart to believe she was on the right side here.

Ada leaned down, testing him. He tilted his face back like she'd anticipated. Their lips touched, soft, harmless. Telling.

He even managed to look annoyed by it.

Ada smirked a little, leaning back. "That's why I'm helping you. It's as simple as that."

Leon studied her, searching her face from where he sat, "Is it? You helping me to get in my pants?"

She laughed, musically, "Do I need to?"

Annoyed, he drummed his fingers on the table again. "What's your game here, Ada?"

She dropped the sunglasses, winked, and shrugged one shoulder. "Play it and find out. See ya round, handsome."

He stayed sitting at the table, drumming his fingers. After a handful of moments, irritated, he lifted his hand to touch his mouth where she'd kissed him. And it pissed him off that he kinda missed her already.

* * *

**Starlight Cruise Liner -2001**

* * *

She was too late.

Too late.

_Too late._

He was dead. She knew that the moment she watched him go down on the deck of that massive mistake set to the water by Umbrella. An infested nightmare, the lab was breeding things that left a sour taste in the mouth of anyone who was attempting to stop them. The rumors of what monsters they were making were scattered and unsubstantiated.

The moment she learned that Barry Burton had recruited Leon to board the ship and liberate data to help end Umbrella, she knew things were worse than she'd imagined.

Damnit.

How had she dropped the ball on this?

She'd been tracking him so well since Sheena Island. He spent some time in Uruguay doing heavy weather training. He was on a special attache mission in Peru to escort a dictator to custody. He was attached to the detail of a clean up in Mozambique.

How had she missed the moment he averted orders and struck out on his own to help an old friend?

Burton and Kennedy were friends through Redfield. When Chris had survived with his sister on Rockfort, the two had connected with Kennedy remotely to begin working behind the scenes to flush out Umbrella. They'd met up with Burton and Jill Valentine in secret to start formulating a take down on Umbrella.

At what point had Burton decided Leon was the right choice for an operation like this?

The ocean liner, code name Starlight to discourage would be eyes from looking beyond the facade of a luxury cruise ship, was rumored to be carrying a new type of B.O.W. Leon went in. Leon went in alone.

Like an idiot.

Like a fool.

Like a fucking hero.

He was now M.I.A.

Burton was dispatched to locate him. But the rumblings Ada was receiving from the ship indicated he was abducted at best, at worst he was infected and dead. The water split as Ada emerged into the bowels of the ship, lifting her mask and unzipping her wetsuit as she infiltrated into the sewage hold. The ship was already sinking. Entering remotely using diving gear was easy enough.

The sewage hold was most submersed anyway.

The ship was going to be tits up and mast down in less than two hours.

She had to find Leon - fast.

All the information she could turn up referred to the Gaiden strain of the T-Virus. She was putting the pieces together on what Gaiden was.

The parasites on the ship were nothing she'd come across before. They bled green. They mimicked human nature. What was worse? They mimicked in a way that told Ada Umbrella was messing with more than just viruses here.

They were cloning.

They were cloning human life.

Simmons, that filthy piece of shit, was in it with them. She'd stake her life on it. Simmons was a well known supporter of the human cloning initiative. The stem cell research controversy was still in infancy. What would the world think to find out it was well beyond using your babies cells to cure your own cancer?

What if they knew there was a copy of your baby being turned into a monster?

Ada made sure to put down every last monster with a human face she encountered. If she was unsure, she did it anyway. The crew was best left dead in this instance as well including anyone, anywhere, that had participated in this atrocity. There was no mercy regarding their disposal.

Ada employed a shoot to kill philosophy to guarantee maximum containment.

She ducked into a small antechamber and heard shouting. There was gunfire. There was the pound of feet. The whip of helicopter blades signaled a rescue was coming.

Curious, she glanced out the porthole beside her to see Burton, holding a little girl in his arms, as he ran for the helicopter. Where was Leon? She read Burton's lips as he yelled at the pilot, "Kennedy is compromised. Kennedy is dead."

He was wrong.

She wasn't sure how she knew that.

But he was wrong.

The door to the chamber opened and in walked Leon.

Her gun was on him without thinking. He tilted his head at her. She tilted hers back. "Long time, no see, Leon."

His mouth lifted in a half smile. "Ada. You're a little late."

"Am I?"

"Yeah. I don't need saving this time."

"Don't you?"

He tilted his head again. "Do I?"

She shook her head, "Take that knife strapped to your leg and cut your hand please."

Surprised, his brows winged up. "You think I'm a clone?"

"Would you know if you weren't?"

The amusement flushed over his face. It sparkled in his eyes. He looked unhurt. He looked unharried. He looked fine. If he was really Leon...why would Burton leave him behind?

Shrugging, he pulled the knife in his boot. "You gonna shoot me if I don't bleed red?"

"You kidding? I'm might still shoot you if you do."

He laid the blade against his palm and pulled it. The blood welled up. It plopped wetly to the floor - as green as a shamrock. Ada shook her head, holding his gaze. "...damnit, Leon."

"...apparently we don't know we're the clone, after all. Gonna kill me, Ada?"

It was the first goddamn time she hesitated to put down a monster in her entire life. The gun didn't waver - but she did. Why? Because it was his face. It wasn't him. But it was his face.

She liked his fucking face.

She didn't want to blow it away.

It was a handful of seconds but it was long enough for the clone to flip that blade in his palm and chuck it at her while she hesitated. Instinct, skill, and luck had her ducking as the knife whizzed an inch above her left ear. She went down into a crouch with her leg thrown to side and fired.

But Leon's clone had ducked behind an over turned shelf while she hesitated.

He taunted, "You love me too much to blow me away, Ada? What kind of fucking pussy are you?"

Gritting her teeth, she used the barrels beside her to provide cover while she waited for a chance to shoot him. "At least if I'd thrown that knife, I wouldn't have missed. But...you are just a shadow of your real self, after all. So who can blame you for sucking?"

The clone spat at her now, irritated, "I am the real me, bitch! Come on over here and I'll prove it!"

The crazy part about the whole exchange wasn't the fact that she was facing a clone. It's that she knew, somehow, that the real Leon would never talk to her like that. He was, at the core, not a man who hurled slurs and insults like a filthy mouthed sailor. He was a gentleman...at least he'd always been to her.

It was one of his most charming qualities.

"Please...I was just standing five feet in front of you and you missed. We both know you're just a useless copy of a better man."

"Fuck you, you slanty-eyed cunt."

"I'll pass. I've had the real thing, you understand. So I don't like sloppy seconds."

That worked.

He pushed out from his cover with his enormous handful aimed at her hiding spot. She started to rise and face him head on, confident that he'd miss anyway, and the door behind her was kicked so hard it hit the opposite wall as it flew open.

She rolled to her back instead and aimed down the barrel at another clone. This one was filthy, bloody, beat up and favoring his left side. She didn't shoot him. Why? Why?

Why!?

This one cocked a brow, shifted his gun an inch up from where it was aimed at her, and drilled his carbon copy right between the eyes.

A handful of seconds.

Why didn't she shoot him?

Because the blood running down his forehead was red.

He put his hand down to her, lowering his gun. "Come on. Hurry."

Ada gripped his palm and let him pull her up. She grabbed for him when the motion nearly sent him careening into the wall. "Jesus, Leon. How'd you get away?"

"They stopped taking blood to move me when the ship started sinking. Burton must have activated the self destruct. The second they released my bonds, I killed them both." He kicked the gun from the hands of his dead doppelganger.

She liked the rage on his face. It was very refreshing to see. Cloning might have given the dead man his face, but it didn't give him his feelings. You couldn't copy the human heart after all, it seemed.

Ada snapped open a small tube and scooped up a sample of the dead clone's blood. He watched her, and she couldn't discern his expression. Why didn't he stop her?

She studied the side of his face for a moment until he turned his gaze to her. "...why are you here, Ada?"

She opened her mouth to answer and the ship jerked, hard, throwing her forward. He steadied her as the alarm system began blaring an alert into the air around them. No time for long winded explanations it seemed.

Instead, she shook her head, "No time now. Come with me."

He did, no questions.

The ship caught fire as they burst into the sewage room. It chased them like Mr. X toward their only chance of escape.

She led him back into the bowels of the ship and withdrew the second suit for him to don to escape. They slipped together into the water with respirators and beat a mad retreat toward the neighboring shore.

At the beach, as they emerged from the water, they both watched the ship disappear into the tumultuous tide. Ada felt Leon watching her and turned her eyes back to him as the Starlight ducked under the frothy waves and was gone. The sky was darkening with the threat of rain and the encroaching night.

Quietly, she told him, "I have an evacuation in route. I can't guarantee we're safe until they come for us. You should stay with me."

Leon just nodded, watching her shrewdly. His arm was held to his side in a way that told her he'd probably had his ribs damaged on that side, maybe even broken. But she didn't touch him to find out.

He didn't ask her again why she'd come.

Did it really matter?

In silence, they moved toward the trees. He stumbled once and Ada shifted to bolster him up without asking. He draped his arm over her shoulders and kept moving.

Why had she raced to his rescue?

He was an investment, sure, he was her informant. But she could have dispatched a team to bring him to safety. Why come herself? Even Ada was struggling with the answer.

What was more upsetting was struggling with her own hesitance to shoot him when she knew it wasn't even him.

Why?

Because something in her guts said she needed him alive. He had some part to play she couldn't predict yet. He was important. Until he was no longer useful, she needed to keep him safe.

No. ALIVE. She needed to keep him alive.

She couldn't guarantee his safety. He was in a dangerous business. She couldn't protect him from that. But just maybe...she could keep him among the living until she didn't need him anymore.

If she could just get him to stop being such a fucking hero.

Apparently, keeping Leon Kennedy alive was rapidly become the story of _her _life.


	4. Butterfly4

**Part One: White Knight Syndrome**

* * *

**_A desperate escape._**

**_An unlikely ally._**

**_And a favor that might just cost them both._**

* * *

**Denpasar - 2001**

* * *

It was supposed to be a simple enough mission. She was to infiltrate the market proper, meet with a contact, and broker a deal for an ampule of an early form of the Daylight vaccine that was thought to have been lost in Raccoon City. Created by a doctor named Jenkins and combined with research by Dr. Greg Mueller from Raccoon University who had once worked for Umbrella as a researcher, the Daylight vaccine was engineered using V-Poison gathered from the wasps that had mutated, tyrant rich blood from a fully morphed specimen, and P-Base which was the basal genetic sample of Progenitor stolen from the Arklay lab where Mueller had worked. It was created in an attempt to leverage himself to safety after stealing a Tyrant prototype during his tenure working with Umbrella.

He was stymied in his efforts when Jenkins alerted a follow virology colleague, Dr. George Hamilton, and it was suspected that though Jenkins was summarily killed for his attempts to thwart Mueller, Hamilton may have escaped with the sample of Daylight that was now being syndicated for use against potential weaponized T-Virus outbreaks. At the behest of her organization, Ada was attempting to secure a sample of the vaccine to bring back for analysis and recreation within their private labs.

To her immense disappointment, the meeting between her and the contact - Hamilton- was interrupted by the arrival of someone who had leached onto her feed and tracked her to the meet. Hamilton was taken by the U.B.C.S. and Ada found herself strapped to a chair being interrogated by an angry faced man with a Slavic accent that was referred to as "The Mad Jackal".

She had no doubt she was at the mercy of Colonel Sergei Vladimir. He was often regarded as Spencer's most trusted officer. His time spent serving in the Soviet Army during the Gorbachev era was widely renowned. The collapse of the Soviet Union in the 90's had brought about his retirement but Umbrella, often quick to pick the bones of a military malfunction, had recruited him and given him immediate jurisdiction over their quickly forming Bio terrorist Counter Measure Service. Vladimir was a known patriot to the lost cause of the old dictatorship and likely thrilled at working with a man like Spencer who was secretly was attempting to restore such a regime to the world he wished to conquer.

The little thing that no one talked about though? Vladimir and Albert Wesker were mortal enemies. The two were like fire and gasoline - they were combustive when they touched. He was nearly as gifted in virology as the other man, and was often heard to be touting his brilliance to the ears of any who would listen. It was well known that he wanted to usurp the tyrant project long before Raccoon City had fallen. Best guess? He was making his own monsters somewhere in a basement lab like the war mongering psycho she'd come to expect.

She was fairly certain Sergei had stolen all of Umbrella's core files in Raccoon moments before the bomb had struck and leveled the city. Sergei likely saw himself a hero for the task Spencer had given him. With the government breathing hard down Umbrella's back, Spender had retreated even further into his seclusion. He was a recluse, hidden from the public eye. In his absence, he'd appointed Sergei to C.E.O. Last she'd heard, Sergei was moving all of Umbrella's data to the Caucasus region and encrypting it in a secure location.

She was betting he was here to take the Daylight Vaccine, destroy it, and guarantee that it never saw the light on a global scale production.

It was a shame for him that she'd switched the actual vaccine for a fake. The real one was cleverly hidden in a simple bait and switch at the meeting sight waiting for her to return and retrieve it. The ampule Sergei was holding was saline and food coloring to make it look white and cloudy.

Quietly, Sergei mused, "It is a curious thing, you see, to find myself in possession of something so...precious."

Ada tilted her head at him, "And what's that? The vaccine?"

He grinned, showing yellowed teeth, "No, су́ка...not this. You. Don't you know how valuable you are to Wesker? He will agree to a meeting now, to have you safely returned to his arms."

He was wrong if thought that she mattered to Wesker. Their brief affair had lasted just long enough for them to determine that neither of them was the type to be interested in anything long term. His lack of scruples somehow offended her. He had an agenda as varied and as perverse as any megalomaniac she'd ever met. The moment she realized she was going to stay in his service as a spy though, she realized that he was useful from a business stand point in helping her achieve her end game. It made for cold bed partners to know each of you saw the other as a means to an end.

Ada laughed, lightly, "I don't matter to him. You're wasting your time keeping me. He can replace me with any number of women. I'm nothing to him."

Sergei arched his thick brows. "Aren't you? We shall see. Will you talk? Or will we dance?"

Ada shrugged a delicate shoulder, "I'm not much for talking, Colonel. Better put on your dancing shoes."

They bound her hands and strung her up in a cold stone room. They made a video for Wesker of her torture. It was cold water at first to make sure she stayed awake. It was shock rods to her wet skin when she didn't give them what they wanted.

The pain was something she'd been taught to control. She could handle torture. She'd been built to resist it. Sergei didn't watch the torture. It turned out he wasn't a man given to the enjoyment of seeing someone reduced to a punching bag.

She wasn't sure how long they kept her in that room. The feeling in her arms died and went numb. The first lash on her back from the whip bled badly enough it dripped down her toes where she dangled. They stuffed food in her mouth to keep her alive and dumped water in her throat.

With little choice, she was humiliated by being forced to relieve herself where she dangled since they never let her down to use the restroom. When she soiled herself, they threw water and soap on her to cleanse her. She waited for her chance to escape.

She waited for her chance to fight back.

She waited in vain.

One day the door opened and Sergei emerged looking angry. "It seems I over estimated your worthiness after all. Wesker has declined dealing for your release. It seems you are expendable. If you won't talk and I can't trade you, I have no use for you." He glanced at the men in the room with her, "Dispose of her."

He turned and left, slamming the door to her chamber.

The first masked man moved in front of her. He grabbed her face and slapped her from her partial stupor. "Wake up! I want you to fight back when I fuck you."

Of course. Rape. What else was there for men like this?

They'd rape her and then kill her. She'd be damned if she made it easy for him. He leaned in to kiss her.

Ada spit in his face.

The other man in the room laughed. The one holding her face reared back and slapped her again, hard enough now that it left her a little dizzy. He cursed her in russian and fought her for control of her legs. She tried to swing away and he grabbed her by the backs of her legs and jerked her thighs open. She was already naked. It would be an easy victory if he managed.

His hand grabbed at his fly.

And Ada shouted, "Wait...wait...I won't fight. Ok? I won't fight."

Curious, he tilted his head. "Why not?"

"Why fight? I've lost. Maybe...maybe we can both enjoy it instead, huh?"

He shrugged, stupid and eager, and shifted toward her. "I will bring you pleasure than. I will cum in you while you cry with want of me. Yes?"

Ugh.

But she smiled. "Oh, yes. Come closer."

He shifted toward her eagerly and her legs hooked around his hips. His hands dropped to continue jerking at his fly to free himself. She heard the zipper. She felt him reach into his pants to pull his erection free - and Ada kicked him in the backs of his knees.

He grunted and fell forward, she kneed him in the gut, and his friend rushed at them. But he'd be too slow to stop it. Ada wrapped her thighs around the face of the man on his knees at her feet and jerked with her hips. She twisted. The bones in his neck snapped wetly.

And the other man shouted, stabbing the shock rod in his hands into her ribs.

Her body snapped and jerked, flopped and rolled. The dead man at her feet hit the stones beneath them and didn't move. And the other man roared, "су́ка! I will gut you for this!"

He tossed the shock rod down and grabbed the knife from his vest. He wasn't going to bother to rape her. He was just going to kill her.

Ada kicked at his wrist and the knife sliced instead of stabbed, raking over her belly in a firey flick even as she kicked him in the ass to send him stumbling away.

She bled, he shouted in rage and reversed to come at her again, and Ada taunted, "Who's the bitch now? You can't even kill a woman dangling from the ceiling!"

He reversed, running at her like he'd carve her up, and Ada tried to rotate her body to finish him off. He slapped her foot as it lunged at him and drove the knife toward her ribs. She had a moment to figure she'd bleed out all over the filthy floor at her feet and the echo of a gun filled the small room.

The man slid down her body instead and fell onto his dead comrade. The knife skittered across the floor.

And Leon Kennedy stood in the doorway of her cell, head tilted.

"Ada...long time, no see."

She turned in a slow circle as she dangled. "You're seeing more than you should, I'm afraid. What are you doing here, Leon?"

"What else, sweetheart? I'm saving your ass Admittedly, it's a nice ass.."

Ada rolled her eyes and retorted, "Save the sweetheart for some simpering little girl who needs to be coddled, Leon. Cut me loose. Hurry. Maybe we catch Sergei."

"He's gone." Leon shifted into the room and knelt to dig through the guards pockets for the key to her restraints. Ada kept her gaze on him as he rose and leaned against her to unlock her. She was very, very aware of the fact that she was naked. It was irrelevant, given that she'd just avoided rape at the hands of her captors, but it didn't change the fact that she was certain they both were carefully avoiding looking at each other. "Once he ordered your murder, he left the facility and gathered what he needed to evacuate."

"There's nothing left?"

"I have a team inbound to sweep to be sure, but I don't think we'll find anything."

She tumbled loose when the cuffs gave and her numb arms flopped downward. He caught her at the shoulders as she staggered, angry at the temporary weakness. She spat, "Sorry. I don't know how long I've been dangling. Give me a minute for the feeling to come back."

She watched his jaw flex twice while he nodded.

Such a boyscout, the injustice of what was done to her would offend him. They'd torture her to no availl, of course. She wasn't going to talk. And she'd have died before she let them rape her.

He pressed a bandage to her wounded belly and secured it with tape. All so medical. All so practical. Her breasts didn't even draw his eye.

She was constantly impressed with how carefully professional he could be.

But she queried, "How'd you find me anyway?"

He glanced down at her before she eased back from his grip. "A tip came through the secure server at Langley. The CIA forward the message to USSTRATCOM and they tasked me."

"Why?"

She flipped over the body of one of her attackers and started divesting him of his clothes. Leon replied, "Someone wanted me to get the message. Who knew you were here?"

"No one. I was meeting a contact alone."

He helped Ada take the mans pants and boots. As she started to take his shirt, Leon shook his head and pulled off his own jacket. "The less you wear that belonged to this pig, the better."

Strangely touched, Ada accepted the jacket and slid it on over her torso. She picked up the man's knife and helped herself to his sidearm.

Leon swung the HK416 assault rifle from his back into his gloved palms. The heavy tactical vest he wore complimented the black on black gear that covered him. Ada stumbled a little as they moved toward the door - both from hunger, weakness, and from the large boots she wore.

He caught her arm above the elbow and gave her a shrewd look, "I have an evacuation point scheduled for oh-six hundred at a safe hour outside of Denpasar. I'll get you there and come back to assist the recon team."

"I can't go to the safe house. Not yet."

Leon gave her a narrow look as he they headed toward the facility exit. "Don't play tough guy here, Ada. Let's get you safe. You're wounded, dehydrated, and compromised. I can help you. Let me."

Ada shook her head, "I'm not being a feminist here, Leon. I have to collect what I came for. You can either help me, or let me go. Dealer's choice."

"Damn it, Ada. This isn't a request."

"You're not the boss of me, Leon. I'm grateful you came. I am. But don't let that go to your head. You're not my team leader here. And this is still my mission. I finish my missions. Help me, or go home."

He studied her in the low light of the dying sun beyond the compounds south gate. She was so god damn stubborn.

"I could make you come with me."

Surprised, her brows winged into her hair. Amusement flashed across her face. "Could you?" She stepped a little closer and the muzzle of his rifle pressed into her chest, "So make me. Pull the trigger. Put me down. Or worse...toss me over your shoulder like a caveman and carry me to safety."

She watched his jaw flex again. She watched him lick his teeth in frustration. But he did neither.

She arched a brow at him. "Time matters here, Kennedy. Which way are you going?"

She turned and hurried toward the town square. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Why does no one ever listen to me?"

And he moved after her.

She led him to the square where she'd met Hamilton and helped herself to her the vial she'd taped under the table when she'd switched the fake into her palm. Leon looked at her steadily as she rose. Ada shrugged, "I'm always looking for betrayal. What can I say?"

She held his gaze for a handful of seconds before she said, "Sergei took George Hamilton. He's a doctor who survived Raccoon. He participated in developing the Daylight Vaccine that I'm holding."

Leon jerked like she'd slapped him.

"Yeah. That's what I have here. A prototype. Maybe the last of its kind."

They held gazes over the table - the spy and the hero. He shook his head, cursed softly, and glanced over the darkening horizon. "...fuck."

Ada took two long breaths. "We both know I can't let you have this. Not yet."

Leon shook his head again. His jaw kept flexing as he watched the sun set. Ada added, "I will give it to you as soon as we get to my safe house and I replicate it."

Surprised, he looked back at her.

Ada nodded, scanning his features. "I need to replicate it. I have to. I have my reasons. I don't want you to trust me. I don't even want you to believe me. But I need you to understand that I'm not the bad guy here."

Leon laughed, mirthlessly, angrily, "Do you think I was born yesterday?"

Ada shook her head, she backed up two steps. She watched his rifle inch up toward her. She saw him hesitate, curse, and lower it back to his side. "I could kill you, Ada. Right now. And take that damn vaccine."

"I know that. I also know you won't. You won't do it. Because part of you knows I'm right here. I'm right. If I replicate this vaccine, I can get it out there faster than the US government will. They'll sit on it. They'll manufacture it through the FDA and all the right channels while people die. Uselessly. I'll give you the vaccine, Leon, but I won't leave empty handed. I can make sure this is widely distributed before we suffer another Raccoon City. It's the right answer. Tell me you don't know that."

It was the first real time she felt sympathy for him. She watched the struggle of what was right, what was good, and what was true across his face. He wanted to help, it was all he wanted, and she was asking him to allow her to take something that the "good" guys wanted.

She wanted to tell him that Simmons and USSTRATCOM weren't the good guys. She wanted to tell him they were as dirty as Umbrella. But she couldn't. Not yet. He had To find that out on his own.

Ada took another step backward, "We have twelve hours to replicate this vaccine and get back to your safehouse. Decide how much you want to serve your masters here, Leon. And how much you want to help the world. I'm doing that. I swear I am. I'm just not doing it by your rules."

There was the sound of helicopters approaching behind the walls of the heavily populated market. His team headed to the facility, no doubt. Ada tucked the pistol in her hands in the back of the pants she wore. She poked the vaccine in the leg pocket of the fatigues.

Leon cursed, spit, and let the rifle roll to his back again. "I'll give you six hours to replicate that damn vaccine."

"Thank you. I mean it. This way."

They shifted down an alley as the USSTRATCOM team emerged into the square. Unseen, by the skin of their teeth, Ada took him down a narrow tunnel beneath the city streets to her station in the sewers. She set about replicating the vaccine in the small kit she'd set up.

Leon watched her in the dark, shaking his head, "What's with you and sewers?"

Ada couldn't stop the laugh.

The replication only took three hours. When it beeped and signaled completion, Leon speculated, "Such a tiny thing to offer so much hope."

Ada had said nothing. She was leaning against the wall where she'd been sitting while the machine crafted a sample. She was sleeping. After the trauma to her body, it was no surprise. She trusted him enough to guard her while she rested.

Surely she knew how huge that was.

Surely.

He called her name, softly, as he moved to lift the little replicated sample from the machine and store it in his pocket. Ada had the original in her own. "It's done, Ada. Let's get to the safe house."

She said nothing.

Sound asleep, she was slumped against the wall and still. Leon shifted toward her and touched her neck to be sure she was still alive.

When she didn't protest or even move, he lifted her into his arms instead. Apparently he'd saved her and he was now going to carry her to their secure location like some hero in a romance novel. Her head slid against his shoulder and her limp body left little doubt to how wounded she was.

At the safe house, he divested her of her clothes and set about treating her wounds. A sponge bath and some disinfectant was the best he could without her consent. He wasn't going to just drop her into a bath and startle her awake.

Besides, rest was the best thing for her now.

He set the rifle beside him as he took the chair beside her bed when she was dressed in his spare clothing from his assault bag. A big white shirt and some gray sweats were bettered than the filthy pig gear she'd been wearing.

He'd burn that shit if he could.

There was nothing he abhorred more than men who raped for sport. He knew it was done. He wasn't naive or stupid. He knew men forced themselves on women, especially like Ada who served in intelligence, to prove their power.

But it never failed to surprise him how often it was over looked or ignored. Even to the level of men in his department talking about women "sucking and fucking" their way to the top. It was so common to objectify a woman to diminish her that it was almost socially accepted.

Somewhere, his mother was _still _ boxing his ears for disrespecting his date in the eighth grade. He'd been raised that a woman was a lady, even if she was the type of lady who liked to go home with a different man every night.

In highschool, Kate Jones had become pregnant. The small town he'd grown up in had been aghast. Because the rumor was that Kate had been gang raped by a few boys on the football team. No one knew who the father was because of that.

It had been a huge scandal. It was one he never forgot. His mother had pulled him aside to make sure he understood the severity of such a thing.

Always_ treat your woman like a lady, Leon. Imagine if some man did to your sister what those men did to that girl._

His sister was his world. Born six weeks early, they'd thought at first she was just a preemie. But it was quickly evident that she had down's syndrome and was mentally handicapped. For the first half of his life, he'd made sure that Anna Kennedy never felt an ounce of judgement or restraint because she was different.

Thick as thieves, they'd become the best friends in the world. When he'd left for the academy, Anna had given him the St. Michael medal he wore around his neck even now. She'd said, "Michael is the guardian of the good, Leon. He stands against the evil. He swings his sword for justice. Wherever you are in the world, I know you'll swing your sword to save us."

With the softness that came with a world that hadn't darkened, Anna offered hope. He never got back enough to see her. He knew the down's would limit her time here on Earth, and yet he always had a thousand reasons not to go home to see her.

He thought, strangely, that she would like Ada. Ada with her snarky remarks and her killer fashion. Ada with her flawless beauty and her firey determination. Anna would think Ada was a guardian too. She wouldn't understand how gray the shades between black and white were.

Did he?

He glanced at Ada where she rested.

Did he understand how gray the world was?

Or was he still hoping, somewhere under all of it, Ada Wong was as black and white as he was?

She made a small sound on the bed. She rolled quickly, surprising him, and her hand snatched for the pistol he'd laid on the bedside table to treat her. He beat her to it and kept it aimed at her, speaking softly, "You're alright. It's just me. You're safe."

Ada said nothing, watching him in the cool moonlight.

Leon added, softly, "We have less than an hour until extraction. Go back to sleep."

A handful of moments spilled around them before Ada whispered, "Are you going to shoot me?"

Surprised, he shook his head, "No. Why?"

"Then why are you still aiming that gun at me?"

He was. She was right. Amused, he lowered it. "Maybe I need some sleep too, huh?"

"...did you treat my wounds?"

"I did. I was worried you'd get an infection."

He'd doctored her like she'd done for him in that filthy sewer. He'd taken care of her. She owed him. How the balanced scales of justice just kept dipping for each other.

Ada answered, gently, "Why haven't you killed me? If you think I'm evil, Leon. Why haven't you finished me off?"

Leon set the pistol down on the nightstand again. "I don't know. I keep hoping I'm wrong. I keep thinking that no one is beyond redemption, I guess. You're not evil, Ada. I think you're just using your own set of morals to validate what you do."

Ada tilted her head in the dark, "And you aren't?"

She had him there. Hadn't he just went against all his protocols to help her get her own sample? What was right and what was wrong anymore?

He wasn't even sure he had the answer. He wondered if Anna did.

Leon shook his head and told her, "Go on back to sleep while you can."

"I'm not tired."

He glanced at her face in the moonlight and murmured, "I am."

She got the feeling he didn't mean physically. Quietly, she queried, "What do you want from me, Leon? You keep hoping I'll have a conversion experience and turn against the Dark Side?"

He muttered, rubbing his face with his hand, "Something like that."

Charmed, Ada sighed, "Such a boy scout."

"Maybe. But otherwise where do you draw the line between us and them?"

Us and them. He really, really, really believed she was the US. She was like him. He believed, under it all, she was good. Touched, Ada shook her head, "It's never that simple, Leon. There's no us. There's no them. There's just...survival."

He scanned her face in the filter of silver from the window. "I can't believe that, Ada. I have to know that what I do, what I fight for...it has to matter. Even if it's just a single life I save. It has to be worth it. Or what's the point?"

He wasn't just a boy scout, Ada thought, he was a hero. A hero didn't just do the right thing, a hero believed what he did mattered. He fought long after the fight was lost. He kept fighting when the rest of the world gave up.

Leon Kennedy had been a boy scout in a dying city. Now, he was a hero in an endless war.

Softly, urgently, Ada admonished, "Leon...you beautiful, wonderful, selfless fool."

Her fingers slid into the latches of his vest. She watched the want and the denial spill over his face. But he didn't say no. That was his thing too. He just...didn't say no.

She went to her knees on the bed and tugged him over. He didn't touch her. He let her grip two handfuls of his vest and murmur, "Those men...they were going to rape me before they killed me."

His jaw flexed. His eyes flared. "...I know."

"You didn't even look. I was naked. I was exposed. You didn't even look."

His eyes fluttered, twice, and he whispered gruffly, "I looked. I'm not blind. I looked."

Her mouth twitched, "Did you? Did you like what you saw?"

Oh. He didn't. His face registered rage and anger. "You hurt, exposed, scared and captured? No. No, I didn't. I didn't like that at all."

Boy scout.

Hero.

She breathed, "You saved me. You were the hero right? The hero gets a kiss."

He ground his teeth, shaking his head, "How-I wouldn't. Not after that. Can you really want that? After they touched you?"

Feeling a need to soothe him, Ada cooed, "They didn't touch me. They didn't get the chance. I wouldn't let them. You wouldn't let them either." She brushed their noses together, "I don't let anyone touch me unless I want them to."

He trembled in her grip. She felt it. She saw the indecision on him. She knew he didn't trust her. She knew he wanted to.

She felt a squiggle of pity for him even as she spoke with her mouth to his and their lips brushing, "Do you want to?"

Her hands slid down the inside of his arms. She caught his wrists and drew his arms toward her until they encircled her and she set his hands on her ass. And she breathed, "Do you want to touch me, Leon?"

He didn't grab her. He didn't push her away either. She tilted his face toward her and skimmed her thumbs over his cheeks.

The breath he took was shaky. She brushed their mouths back and forth and he finally whispered, "What do you want from me, Ada?"

A good question.

Too many answers that he wasn't ready for.

So she gave him the only one that mattered right then, "...open your mouth."

He did. No questions. No hesitation. It thrilled her.

She spilled her tongue inside to kiss him. And he moved. That much of a martyr, he wasn't. He finally curved his hands against her ass to drag her into his body. He didn't grope. He didn't go under the clothes.

He didn't have to.

She was pressed so tightly to him that she knew he was happy to be there.

She let the kiss drag on until they were both breathless. Her hand skimmed down and brushed over the rigid length of him behind his pants. He didn't stop that either.

Saint or not, he was still a man.

The sound of swirling helicopter blades drew them apart. He glanced at his watch and Ada adored the flush across his cheeks that was probably half excitement, half shame for touching her.

"...shit. They're early."

She shook her head, sliding off the bed. "No they aren't. That's not yours, that's mine."

She licked her lips and winked at him. "Ask yourself sometime what you think I want from you, Leon. Be honest about it. Stop trying to make it global in scale. You ever think maybe I just like you?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Please. You could get a stiff dick from anyone, Ada. I'm not that good of a lay."

Her brows winged up. Her eyes sparkled with humor. "Ouch. Don't sell yourself short. You should work on that self esteem Mr. Kennedy."

"Why? You planning to prove me wrong?"

She rolled her lip under. She glanced down at his groin. His left brow winged up as she shrugged, "I never plan that far ahead. But I'm curious if the package is as good as the face."

He couldn't stop the laugh. He tried. But he couldn't do it.

She grabbed the sample from the pants on the floor and backed up. Hesitating, she finally said, "Take that vaccine back with you...and look into Javier Hidalgo."

Surprised, Leon shook his head, "The drug lord?"

"...it's not just drugs he's running."

They held gazes for so long that he finally said, "...got it...thank you, Ada."

"Don't thank me yet, handsome. See you around, Leon...my hero."

She blew him a kiss and hurried across the lawn to the waiting chopper. He watched her, shaking his head. He didn't know what game she was playing...but he'd be damned if he wasn't waiting for the next round.


	5. Butterfly5

**Part One: White Knight Syndrome**

* * *

**_A gruesome mistake._**

**_A second too long._**

**_A mad man with nothing to lose._**

* * *

**Columbia- 2002**

* * *

The dirty floor wasn't doing anything but making his face itch. He groaned, trying to add volume to the silence that was his current existence. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten here. He wasn't sure who'd left him.

His hands tensed and found themselves unbound for the first time in days.

They'd tried, at first, to drown the truth out of him. They'd tried water torture and smacking the shit out of him. They'd tried, after that, to get him to loosen his tongue with coercion. _Look what we can promise you. Look what we can offer._

When that failed, they'd left him on the floor like garbage.

He watched a spider skitter through his blood and blink as a big red blob slid into his eye.

Manuella was gone. Krauser had betrayed him for the use of his arm. The fight was brutal. Ugly. It was pain in ways that had no name. Because why? Why?

Because they'd been friends, he and Jack. They'd been friends.

Sorta.

Enough that the first stab to his lower back had more than surprised Leon, it had nearly cost him the fight. He hadn't seen it coming. Sure, they'd argued. Sure, they'd shouted. Sure, Jack was wounded and scared and broken. But he'd thought if they just got him back. If they just got him back to the compound, they could fix him.

Jack knew better.

Jack knew his arm was lost to him.

Jack wasn't a man who handled a disability well.

And he blamed Leon for the loss of it all.

Why?

Because Leon had chosen to protect Manuella against impossible odds. When things had turned hopeless, Leon had stuck to her side like glue. Jack, cut adrift, had battled against enemies too many to count. He'd lost more than his arm in that battle; he'd lost his faith in comrades.

Choosing to protect the target had cost Leon his partner.

And Jack repaid that loss in blood.

The knife had burned going in. It sank deep, it drove a cry from his mouth as he'd nearly gone to his face on the ground with the force of it, and barely held his feet as Jack added a kick to the back of the knee to put him there.

As he wrenched the blade free, he shouted, "How does it feel, _comrade!? _How does it feel to get stabbed in the back!?"

The heat of the blood pouring down his skin acted like a shock rod and drove Leon to his feet. He staggered, he ripped his own knife from his vest and pointed it at Krauser, "Don't be stupid, Jack! This was the _JOB! It was the mission! _I did what needed done!"

"_You betrayed me for a piece of ass!"_

The hurled horror of that shout echoed over the steep valley. Leon circled him, his left leg going numb. It was a good stab. Krauser had likely gotten him right in the fucking kidney.

He wasn't sure how long he had before it incapacitated him and left him for dead.

"I never touched that girl," Quiet, soft, emphatic - Leon implored him, "I never touched her. She was the mission, Jack. She was the reason we came. I couldn't leave her to die!"

"You ignorant son of a bitch_, _you left _me_ to die_!"_

The guilt joined the pain in his side as Leon shook his head, "I didn't! I had to make a choice. I had to! I had to protect the girl. Otherwise what are we doing here?! We can't let the innocent die, Jack! That's what we do! We save the girl!"

"No! NO! _You _save the girl! You choose the girl over your partner! Me?" Jack stopped circling, "I kill men who betray me. There's nothing worse, nothing, than a traitor."

Traitor. A word that meant something to a man like Leon. Traitor. A man who betrayed what he believed in for something evil. Was he? Was he a traitor? He'd left Jack for dead, that was true. But his intentions had been good. They'd been right.

He was right.

Wasn't he?

He just didn't know anymore.

With one arm lost to him, Jack was still formidable. They battled across the burning grass as the compound blazed behind them. They threw punches and bled and fell.

When Jack was on the ground with Leon's knife to his throat and his arm poised to snap Krauser's neck, Leon had begged, one last time, "Please, Jack. It's not too late."

And Krauser had spat, "It was too late the moment you left me behind. I won't be a cripple, Kennedy. Finish it!"

Leon had started to let go and the first whine of a bullet surprised them both. It struck the grass beside Leon's hip and tossed up dirt and mud. It bit like a land shark into the ground and chunked sod in a hot splatter.

A warning shot, clearly.

Leon started to drop Jack and the other man bellowed, "NO! NO! Not like this! You kill me! You hear me!? You kill me, Kennedy! You kill me!"

People raced from the flickering firelight and grabbed for them. Jack pleaded, desperately, "No! Please! Kill me! KILL ME! KENNEDY! YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

They dragged them apart. Leon slumped, nearly too weak to do anything else as they dragged him. Jack's final plea reached his ears as they shoved him into a van. "LEON!"

And the darkness snapped closed around him.

They asked him questions when he awoke. They treated his wounds. They fixed him - so they could torture him again. It was a cycle. Fix him, fuck him up. Fix him, fuck him up.

He was beyond hope here, he knew that.

Whatever they wanted to know, he didn't know it. They asked about Wesker. They asked about something called Project Pentacle. They asked about The Initiative.

He didn't know about any of it. What he knew of Wesker was limited. It was useless. Didn't they understand? Torturing him wouldn't make his clearance any higher to learn the things they wanted.

He wasn't anyone. Just a grunt. Just a worker bee.

Just a fool who finished the job and left his friends to die.

He started to rise and his arm gave out. He went back to his face in the blood on the floor. There was a squeal of metal and a cool breeze touched his cheek.

Sleek red heels appeared beside his face and voices filled his ears.

The voice that spoke first was his captor, or one of them, "He's useless. He knows nothing. I don't understand why you want him. We were going to insert him into the Nemesis program."

Jesus. Was that still active? He'd been sure that was shut down with the fall of the labs in Raccoon. Apparently, not.

And then a familiar dulcet tone replied musically, "He has value. More than you know. I should have your ass drawn and quartered for what you've done to him. Did you run this up the flagpole before you started torturing him?"

The other voice sounded nervous now, "...no. They said to interrogate the man we found."

"Yes. And yet you found two men. Two. Where's the other one?"

The feet shifted. The voice replied, "He's gone. He gave us what we needed. He's been taken care of."

Jack. Jesus. Leon made a small sound of regret.

The red shoes shifted back to him, "You were to interogate the other. Not this one. This one was off limits. He's under my protection. I should split you open and watch you die screaming."

The other voice came terrified now, "Ma'am. Please. Please. We had orders. I followed them. I didn't think -"

"No. You didn't. Get the chopper ready. He needs emergency medical attention. You fucking idiot. If he dies, I will enjoy making sure that you join him."

The black boots all but ran for it. The red heels moved into his vision again. He listened to the rustle of fabric and felt the cool touch of fingers on the side of his face.

The creamy voice soothed, "I'm sorry, Leon. I tried to get here sooner but I was delayed. I never imagined they'd be stupid enough to interrogate you both like this. I'll fix it."

Lips touched the edge of his ear as she added, "Kiss it, make it better." She pressed a kiss to his temple.

And he smelled her perfume.

On a hoarse sound, he moaned, "Ada?"

But he couldn't keep it together. He slumped back down. He focused on those red shoes, and he let the dark claim him again.

* * *

**Las Gachas, Outside of Guadalupe -Santander, Columbia**

* * *

The warm push made his muscles feel like spaghetti.

It had taken him almost three months to recover. The damage to his body was one thing - he had scars all over his back and shoulders. There were burn marks dancing up his hip and over his stomach. His body looked like a man who'd survived torture.

But it was his mind that was keeping him here.

Ada had shipped him off to some kind of recovery center. She didn't even come to see him. She left him in the hands of doctors and disappeared.

At first, the physical toll had guaranteed he just slept and slept and slept. After he'd been weaned off the narcotics, the pain had propelled him to fight against recovery. He'd been the type that was a wounded bear - grouching and snapping and resisting.

When it was clear that he was going to recover anyway, he'd thrown himself into the demands of it. His body, well conditioned, had come back beautifully. The nightmares, however, never left him.

It annoyed Leon how utterly fragile the human psyche could be. His own inability to shake the PTSD that plagued him enraged him. The comfort of the remote beauty in which he found himself was the only real thing he looked forward to.

Las Gachas was known as the _Cano Cristale_s to the locals, or the colorful river. It was red when it suited, due to the algae that clung so sweetly to the river bed beneath your feet as you walked. Or purple when it pleased, offering the viewer something incredible to feast their eyes upon.

Quebrada Las Gachas was a series of natural plunge pools along a shallow river bed. The river was shallow because water naturally flowed down into the pits, and forced you to literally walk on the river bed. It was slippery, and not for the faint of heart to attempt traversing it. But the reward was more than worth the effort.

Thirty plus pools of perfectly steamed Jacuzzi like water stretched as far as the eyes could see. You plunged in, you felt the immediate joy of utter surrender, and all your pain simply slid away in the sheer release of it. He floated there now, eyes closed, head back, and just - existed.

He just wished the warmth could spread to his brain as well. He was afraid he'd be plagued by doubt and indecision and guilt forever. Jack was dead. They'd all but confirmed that for him. He was gone. He'd died hating Leon Kennedy for betraying him.

In all his life, Leon had never thought of himself as a bad guy. He was a good guy. A friendly guy. A cop who wanted to serve and protect and help.

He'd left Jack to die. He'd left his partner to die. And he'd been tortured for it.

The torture didn't die with Jack. It plagued him in sleep, in waking, in a walking. Behind the closed lids of his eyes, the horror of what they'd done to him never quit. It ran like a movie on continuous play. Torture in itself, it did what any good trauma would do, it kept him from recovering in mind like he did in body.

How could he go back to the agency a shell of himself?

Was anyone even looking for him? It was likely they thought he'd died too. He was probably disavowed and forgotten about. He was likely a file in a drawer somewhere that no one even took the time to read. Another dead soldier in a useless war.

Leon paused, considering the thought. Did he think the war was useless? Sometimes. Sometimes he was aware his body and his mind were taking the hits for a war they were losing.

Did he think there was reward at the end of every mission? Naively, yes. Yes, he did. Sometimes, he thought there should be light at the end of the dark tunnel he was in. He was drowning here. He needed, something, anything...to remind him what he was fighting for.

He wanted to give up and go home. He wanted...what? For his mother to stroke his hair and coo to him and make him feel like he wasn't going to weep every time he pictured a shock rod shoved into his fucking balls.

There was a shift of sound and Leon felt the water lap against his chest.

He opened his eyes to find Ada floating in the water in front of him. The pale curve of her breasts were nicely hidden in the red, red water. She smiled, slyly, and mused, "Leon, long time, no see."

He shook his head, "You wait until I'm all stitched together to show up?"

Ada shrugged a delicate shoulder, "I had things to do. People to see. And I can't stand broken things. I only play with dolls that are working."

He didn't even smile. He wasn't in the mood for her games. Not now, not anymore. Leon looked away, sighing. "What do you want, Ada? You brought me here. You made me all shiny again. You fixed me up. What do you want from me? I don't know anything. I can't tell you a damn thing. You think showing me your tits and flirting with me will loosen my tongue?"

He looked back at her, his gaze direct and cold, "They tried to cut my fucking tongue out to do the same. At least they were honest about it."

Ada studied him, shrewdly. They said he was physically a revelation. She could see the scarring, the blistering, the bruising. She knew he'd taken months to recover from what other men might have never come back from. His body was strong and virile and roped in muscle. But there was nothing in his eyes.

Not the twinkle of the boy she'd known in Raccoon. Not a sparkle from a flirtatious and cocky little thing about to take on the world. He was broken. And she hated broken toys.

She wanted to play with ones that worked. She needed him fixed. She needed him cocky. She needed him ready.

She knew The Initiative was lurking and working with that god damn zealot Saddler on back door plans for a coup to overthrow the United States government. She was still trying to grease palms and find out what channels had chatter about the "how". Wesker was trying, desperately, to circumvent The Initiative and crack his own egg all over the same frying pan.

Whoever got there first, she needed to piggyback into the right circles and avoid the fallout.

The only way to do that, was to let Leon Kennedy uncover Saddler and the Los Plagas, get the sample she needed, and keep the eye of both parties on him while she used him as cover to gather her own intel. He'd never get picked up by Graham as a private detail agent in his current shape. The damn interrogation by those idiots Wesker had hired had nearly broken him.

Physically perfect or not, he'd lost his heart. A man like Leon needed to believe to push on. She had to get him back into the fight. She had to get him back to believing in himself and what they were doing here.

She needed him. She'd spent too long grooming him for him to give up now.

They studied each other through the swirling steam.

And she said, "I have so many better uses for your tongue. Want me to show you?"

Apparently, his body could still get hard. Shock rod to the balls or not, he was still a man. He reacted just like she wanted him to. His heart rate went up. His dick went up. His blood pressure joined the party. She watched the pulse in his neck skip.

These were all good things.

It sounded strange, but if he could be lured with sex - he was still able to access emotion. So he was wounded, but he wasn't dead. This was a very, very, very good thing.

He answered, softly, "You can't fuck me back to life, Ada. Even you aren't that good."

Her eyes sparkled, shrewdly, "You have no idea what I'm capable of, Leon."

Their eyes stayed locked again. He answered, coolly, "We both know you'll run the second I touch you. I'm too tired to chase you, Ada. And I don't want anymore games. What do you want?"

Interesting.

The chase, for him, was something that propelled him. Did he think he was chasing her? She knew it was more like she was shadowing him. But he didn't know that either. He really thought she was leading him on.

She was, in her way, but not like a cock tease. Not exactly. Despite what he thought, chasing her gave him something that put blood back in his dick. Just the thought of her had fired him up. She could smell the want on him.

Broken or not, he still wanted her.

She could take that want and leverage it into a reason to "chase" her. It might just be enough to lure him back to the fight.

So she answered, holding his taunting gaze, "Try it."

She watched his pulse thump. She saw him swallow, twice. Nervous. He was nervous. Of what? Her? A curious thing. So she encouraged, "I have things to tell you. Important things. Things I need your help with. But I don't think you're ready."

He tilted his head, "I'm ready. Tell me."

"You're not. You're broken. I don't play with broken things."

Oh. That worked. His gaze narrowed. She watched the flush creep up his neck. He was turned on _and _mad now. He didn't like her calling him broken. Whatever else was true, he was also a man with a great deal of pride. She'd wounded his.

"I'm not broken."

"Yeah? You look like a mess to me. I'm right here. Come and get me."

So she taunted that pacing bull with a red flag. He said nothing, volleying his eyes over her face. She twitched one corner in a smile and cooed, "Who's running now?"

His hand shot out. It caught the back of her neck and dragged her in. She let him, feeling the press of her breasts against the scarred heat of his chest. Her hands twisted in his hair and she nipped at his mouth, breathing, "Heroes survive, Leon. Are you a hero? Or a has been?"

That worked too. He kept his eyes open and drove his tongue into her mouth. They kissed wetly, sharply, sucking and sloppy. Neither closed their eyes.

Her blood burst wet and hot in her veins. There was that, she thought, that. That wasn't her grooming him. That was him. That darkness. That eager edge of something raw and dark under the hero's cape he wore so prettily.

He was edged in Darth Vader under the Jedi shell. He was the type who was good, true, strong - and willing to step into the blood to build an empire. Hadn't he left Jack Krauser to die?

She liked it. She liked his ambiguity. She liked his dealing with her at the expense of his vows. He was a man who knew sometimes, sometimes, sometimes ...you had to sell pieces of your soul to fight the devil. How much would he lose before he was the shell of a man she'd glimpsed just moment before? How long before he lost everything good and had nothing left but darkness?

Her hands shifted, angling his face back to her. She hooked her legs around his hips and mounted the front of his body, brushing against him like a whore. The scars were paint on a perfect canvas, they didn't make him less, they made him more. He was now more than a boy in a bad city, he was a hero in a battle for the world.

He was so much more than the rookie she'd found in Raccoon; he was a hero.

She just had to keep him chasing her and the truth so she could duck under that cape and operate in his shadow.

She was bad for him. Bad. Like the girl in high school that used him for a ride to school. She'd stick her hand in his pants and play with his dick but she'd never come across. She gave just enough to keep him on her hook.

Ada was keeping him on her hook.

He knew it. He could _feel it. _

But he didn't want to get off.

Being on her hook was the first time in weeks that he felt alive.

How far was he willing to go to chase that high?

They kissed until they were both breathless. His hands finally slid against her to see how far he'd let her go. He cupped his hand over her groin. His fingers slid into her body.

She let him. She let him finger her. She let him thumb her folds and find her clit and bring her to orgasm. He felt her tighten. He felt her clench. She sucked his tongue and came for him.

He figured, what the hell, and shifted his hand aside. His left hand clenched through her hair to drag her down. He savaged her mouth as his right angled his dick toward her trembling body. How far was she willing to go to keep him on her hook?

Her free hand wrenched down to his hip to stop him from shoving his dick into her. So not that far. She trembled and their eyes held over their gasping mouths.

Gruffly, he grunted, "...yeah, who's running now?"

If she backed off now, he'd resent her. He'd likely call her a cock tease. He'd hate her a little every time he saw her.

Her nails scraped his hip. Her eyes flicked over his. Flushed, they faced off in a way that could cost her everything. And him. But it was the first time he didn't feel like he had anything to lose.

His heart slammed hard and fast behind his chest. It was her. It was the feeling of knowing he could never have her. It was knowing she was bad for him. It was like sneaking a drink of whiskey and a cigarette out by the barn when he was boy - bad...but so good.

How far would he go to chase that high?

And Ada whispered, "Project Pentacle is run by a man named Marlon Sievers. Stop him. You're the only one who can."

Surprised, the hand in her hair slid to the back of her neck. "How?"

She pressed a kiss to his mouth, soft this time, almost tempting. "His wife is a lonely woman...and you've got a pretty face."

Leon trembled, brushing the head of himself against her. She didn't pull away. And the thrill of it made them both shiver. "I'm not James Bond, Ada. I'm not that fucking charming."

Ada licked his mouth and made him stiffen, "You are. Under the broken pieces, Leon, there's nothing but charm. Harness that pain, and start acting like a hero."

He started to answer that she had more faith in him than he deserved. He started to say something clever and funny and more like him than he'd been in a long time...and she stole the words out of his mouth and his head and his soul.

She used her thighs to sink down on him. The water sloshed. Her hands shifted and gripped his neck, almost like she'd choke him. The shock of it, the need of it, it burst out of his mouth on a curse as his latched to her hips to hold on. The power of her thighs, the power of her pussy, both of them stole all his reason and ripped it screaming from his body.

She fucked him stupid, fast, and determined. She rode him like a jockey on the racehorse of his soul. He angled her just enough to hit the end of her body and she took it, thighs clenching.

He felt her tighten. He watched her face while she came. She clenched so hard around him that he lost his grip on her. She tightened her hands around his throat. Like a leash. Like a noose.

Like a trigger.

He grunted, "...fuck." And she did that too. Riding him madly. The perfect storm. He slid his hands up her back to curl her around him and gripped her shoulders, shoving her fast and hard and furiously down on his body.

Her one sound was a cry into his mouth as she came. He felt his ball seize. He felt his brains scramble.

Her hands gripped his throat and she hissed, against his mouth, "Not in me. Not yet."

And she pulled off him as he reached the edge of his own orgasm and hit it, grunting like a pig or something.

She kicked off the wall behind his hips and left him spurting and gasping in the swirling water as he came. He grappled with the edge of the pool, clutching madly as he shot thick ropes of release all into the pretty red water. Alive.

He felt ALIVE.

She'd shocked his system and brought him back to life.

How far would he go to chase that high?

Above him, he listened to her leave the water. Her voice was hoarse, proving she'd succumb to her own game enough to enjoy him as much as he had her. "You don't have to do the right thing to win, Leon. Learn how to balance on the edge of both worlds. That's the only way you win." She crouched above him. Her hands turned his face up and she kissed him, eyes open, upside down while he quaked after his release.

"When you find the balance, you'll have me. Until then..." She licked his mouth and rose, "See you around, handsome."

He watched her perfect ass as it strode away, easily navigating the slippery rocks. Somewhere in the jacuzzi, the evidence of their coupling was still swirling around him. She'd fucked him back from the edge.

She'd given him the keys to pick up the pieces of himself and keep fighting.

His hand slid down to stroke over his softening dick. He could still smell her on him. The thought made him shiver. She was bad for him.

Bad.

He couldn't wait to see her again.

How far would he go to chase that high?

All the way to the end of his sanity.


	6. Butterfly6

**Part Two: The Bitch in the Red Dress**

* * *

**A dangerous game.**

**_A willing sacrifice._**

**_A moment of reckoning to make a hero._**

* * *

**Washington, D.C.- 2003**

* * *

The weeping was so loud. It was punctuated by the discernible squeak of bed springs and the thump of wall taking the damage accompanied by the heavy strike of skin on skin. It was a symphony of flesh and fucking that left no secrets behind the closed door that stood between the prying eyes of the world and what waited beyond.

He rolled to the side, slick with sweat and panting. On her back, legs akimbo like a well used whore, the lonely wife of Marlon Sievers was still crying in the aftermath. Her hand slapped to her soaked narrow chest as her mouth made sounds that were somewhere between laughter and surrender.

"Oh my gawd..." Her thick Brooklyn accent was almost nasally, "...where the hell have you been all my life?"

On his back, heaving as if he'd run five miles up a mountain in high humidity, Leon stared at the rotating fan with a kind of stale acceptance. He snapped off the condom on his cock and tossed it into the trash by the bed.

Ada was right.

Sievers wife was lonely, horny, and pretty. He'd gotten himself assigned as a body guard to her detail and gotten her panties off in less than a week. Women, for the most part, were predictable. A little light flirting, some promise of the forbidden, and she'd played like putty right into his hands.

When she'd wavered, he'd slid his hand up her thigh at dinner with her husband right across from them, and fingered her while she squirmed. She'd cum against his stroking thumb while her husband had shared wine with Senators four feet away.

Ballsy.

But brilliant.

After that, he could barely keep her off him. Every time the husband left, she was in his pants and on his dick. After a week and a half of fucking her stupid, the secrets started pouring out. Pillow talk was an incredible aphrodisiac. She'd blathered on and on about Sievers with a scorned wife's typical spite. She'd revealed secrets that might have gotten her killed if she'd been confessing to the wrong person.

She knew things that Leon hadn't expected. Sievers, assuming his wife was dumb, had spoken in front of her and not even realized she was listening. She'd learned more being arm candy than she'd have learned if she'd been something besides a big rack and a pair of perfect dick sucking lips.

Fucking Tonya Sievers had gotten him names and connections to Project Pentacle that he'd have spent years digging up through normal means. Apparently, his pretty face was more lethal than a hacker with a grudge against the government. Pentacle was a cloning initiative in its infancy. They were waiting for a sample of some kind of parasite to perfect the process.

In the mean time, subjects were cryogenically frozen to preserve their integrity. They were kept in stasis to allow the body to remain functional until "implantation". Implantation of what?

Sievers wife had struck up a cigarette as he rose. She gave him limpid lidded eyes, "He won't be back for hours yet. You should stay."

He shrugged and returned, "I got shit to do." Tonya liked to be treated like shit in a way. She wanted him to be cold and almost bored like this.

She yearned for it in that way that some women had when they adored drama. She shivered and gave him a lick of her lips, "Come back later and I'll blow you."

He laughed and headed for the door. Just beyond it, Leon retrieved the phone he'd stuffed into the fern beside the door frame. Not hers, Sievers. The fool had left it right on the nightstand before he'd left for work. By fucking his wife, Leon had fucked him as well.

The last number called on the phone had an international code attached to it. Spain, by the look of the extension. Who in Spain was attached to Project Pentacle? He hit redial and waited. It picked up with a rapid spill of Spanish.

The Madrid Metro Homicide Division? What did that have to do with anything? There was a crunchy piece of something stuck to the number three. So Leon hit that button when it prompted him to enter the extension of his party.

A heavily accented voice greeted him, "_Amigo..._I warned you not to call me here. What if someone is listening?"

When he was silent, the voice sighed, "Of course...a goddamn butt dial. _Hijo de la chingada." _

The line went dead. Homicide? What did a potential cloning project in the states have to do with the police in Madrid? It was too wide of a berth in the world of weird to make sense.

The phone beeped, surprising him, as a text message rolled in. _The agent knows. Finish him._

Someone knew he was there. Someone knew he was a spy. It was time to take out Sievers, before Leon wound up a victim of his own scheming.

It was the first time he'd killed someone without being eyeball deep in enemies. He slipped atropine into his cocktail and was gone into the night when the first shouts of alarm were raised. The atropine induced a heart attack. A coroners exam would reveal nothing short of a massive coronary.

It was murder in a way that wasn't at all about guns and blood and violence. It was cold, calculating, and controlled. It was the way Ada Wong killed her prey.

Leon leaned on the wall of the safe house as he rode out the fallout to be sure that there was no alarms raised about Sievers death. While he did it, he hacked systems to track the number who'd texted Sievers phone, but it was buried in so many layers that it would take days or weeks even to find the source.

He was still digging when his personal line rang. Shifting his little glasses off his face as he grabbed it, Leon clicked through data and greeted, "Yeah?"

The voice on the other end said, "Mr. Kennedy? This is Derek Simmons the National Security Advisory...you come highly recommended for your bravery and patriotism. I have an opportunity for you, if you're interested."

Curious, Leon leaned back in his chair and returned, "I am. What's it regarding?"

"...how would you like to be the personal security detail for the newly elected President Graham?"

Surprised, Leon tilted his head, "That's what Secret Service is for, Director Simmons."

"You misunderstand, Mr. Kennedy. I didn't say his guard. I said security. There are threats against his person and interest that are right in your wheel house. Sievers was the first step of a much bigger pyramid. The President needs someone with...your particular skill set to assist him. We can pay you, handsomely, for your time."

Something about that guys voice just rubbed him the wrong way, but Leon found himself intrigued. So he watched the data fly across the screen and found himself answering, "...I would be honored."

He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

* * *

**Rojo Muerte, Spain - 2004**

* * *

The muzzle of the gun dug into his back even as the smooth dulcet tones invited, "Put your hands where I can see them."

His left brow arched. His eyes narrowed. After everything he'd done to find this girl, he'd be _damned _if some smooth talking femme fatale was going to stop him in a dusty old bedroom in a dirty old castle. She had no idea who she was taunting here.

So he told her, "Sorry, sweetheart...but following a lady's lead just isn't my style."

The amusement was rich in her voice as she cooed, "...put them up _now."_

The hammer clicked on her gun. He turned at the same time. She made a grunt of surprise as he put her arm in a joint lock and made a swipe for her gun. That's when things went a little haywire. She didn't submit, she straight up kicked the gun out of his hand. Her long, long, long leg swept up and over in a clever one handed front cartwheel. The world narrowed to a handful of seconds.

He could see it happen. What he did, it was more than just luck, it was training. He could assess and assimilate the situation in a handful of moments. He could see two potential outcomes faster than he could draw a breath.

One - he stayed where he was and dove for the gun. She'd get it first and likely shoot him.

Two - he could race her for it. She'd still get it, but she'd be at his mercy...because he drew his knife as he ran. The gun hit her palm and was spun out to face him, his left hand caught her wrist to shove it aside and the knife was cocked sideways at the delicate curve of her throat.

For just a brief flicker, he watched the flash of something like admiration across her pretty face, as he told her, "Word of advice, honey, next time try knives...works infinitely better for close encounters."

He divested her of her gun and hit the release to spill the magazine to the floor as he tossed it the opposite direction. Her head tilted as he paced away and she greeted, "...hmm...Leon...long time, no see."

His expression was less than impressed as he turned back to face her. "Ada...I'd say I'm surprised to see you, but I'm not. You're like a cockroach, you turn up anytime things get quiet."

Her lips split in a wry grin. She tugged the glasses off her face and mused, "You don't sound happy to see me."

His blue eyes rolled as he replied, "If you're here, someone's dead or betrayed, probably both and possibly me...so I'm not really ever glad to see you, Ada. What do you want?"

She looked incredible, damn her, in a gorgeous but completely useless red dress. She looked like she should be going to a party instead of battling bad guys in a dirty village. What was she doing here?

Ada tilted her head again, "Maybe I wanted to see you again."

He laughed now, harsh and dry. His voice dripped sarcasm as he said, "Right. You could have popped up at Starbucks to share a latte, but you felt like in the middle of a nuthouse filled with parasitic freaks was a better way to get reacquainted. What's the plan? You wanna fuck over there on that dusty bed? I can just poke it out of my pants and jerk up your skirt."

A curious thing to know she'd missed him. Tracking him was cake, honestly, he was as loud and obvious as a full fledged fart in a church. There was no mistaking he was there to make trouble. He'd torn apart the town and tramped across the countryside like a ham handed savior on the back of a tank. Sneaking wasn't exactly his forte, but in fairness, he wasn't trying to be quiet.

He was trying to save the girl. God knew that Leon Kennedy didn't need to be a gentle toned savior. He was there to fuck up their world and walk away the winner. It was a clever way of keeping the eyes on him so Ada could operate in the shadows for her own reasons.

He was so good at it! She'd kept him alive to be sure he covered her tracks. Of course, her own personal feelings made that part entertaining as well. She'd been impressed with his fervor the last time she'd seen him. He was as good in bed as he was in the field. An impressive creature, he kept her curious about what he'd do next.

She was contemplating the ramifications of becoming his lover. She knew, in one hand, it would make him more her creature. In the other, it would make him closer to her than anyone had been in a long time. She didn't want him getting into her business. She wanted him, in a purely feminine way, but she'd never in her life risked her safety for a piece of ass. She wasn't going to start now.

Right now she knew if there was anyone in this god forsaken shit hole that could get her the sample she wanted and take down all the enemies in the in between, it was him. She just needed to keep him alive to do it for her.

So she tilted her head again, "Would that make you fight harder, I wonder? And would you really say no if I offered?"

He rolled his eyes again and turned away from her. "Don't flatter yourself, Ada. I'm here doing my job. I don't have time to play footsie with you."

"And yet you offered. You suggested it." She tried her hand and was delighted to see he let her. He let her touch the inside of his forearm and rub with two fingers down to his tactical glove. He didn't touch her back, but he didn't lean away either. Tough guy or not, his body wanted her. They were both aware of it. "...have you missed me, Leon?"

He finally stepped back, and to her delight? He didn't answer her. "So it's true what I hear."

"...which part?"

"You- workin with Wesker."

Oh. That part. She grinned. "I've been known to work with the enemy when it suits my purposes."

"And what purpose is that?"

She winked at him and tossed her glasses on the floor. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Fruistrated, he gave her an angry expression, "What are you doing here, Ada? And why show yourself to me?"

She tilted her head again, "Really? Take a minute and think about that. You went down in that cabin...who do you think protected you while you slept? And do you think that just anyone was dangling outside that window to lure away the enormous bulk of that bastard Mendez? You do have a penchant for courting your own demise, Leon, I'd suggest you think about who your guardian angel has been all this time."

Shit. _Shit. _His brows shot up. She sighed and shrugged, "That's right, handsome, _me. _I'm on your side. When are you going to get that?"

"I don't even know what that means, Ada. Whose side is mine?"

"A good question." She watched the timer on the glasses flash a warning and added, "Be careful, Leon. There's much more at play here than you think. Remember what I told you about Project Pentacle. I'll do what I can to help you. Hurry."

The glasses flashed, throwing the world in light, and she rolled away to grab her gun and escape off the balcony while he called after her.

* * *

She tracked him while she played the game with Wesker that would ultimately end with one of them dead. Her agenda was her own, it always had been, and the puppet in this story hadn't ever been Leon, not really, it was Wesker. Wesker was her puppet, even if he thought she was his. Leon wasn't her play thing, he was her weapon.

He did her dirty work like an unwitting golem. The question of whether or not she was the good guy or the bad guy would haunt him forever, she was sure of that. The sad news? He wasn't the good guy either.

He was a puppet after all, but not hers. Simmons. The strings above his head made the handsome hero dance in ways he couldn't even begin to guess at. Not yet. Not until he was ready to open his eyes and see how deeply tethered he was to his masters.

The time would come for him to cut those strings and free himself, but it wasn't today. Today, he was the guy in need of a hero himself. Too stupid, too brave, too selfless to turn back and save himself. She had to give it to him, he was determined to rescue a single girl in the clutches of a terrorist cult.

Even Wesker was impressed with his fortitude. And Wesker was _never _impressed.

As Ada waited beneath the crumbling tower where he battled the mutated Salazar, Wesker wondered across the communicator in her palm, "Can he be compelled to switch sides?"

She considered this. Even if he could be, would she want him to? He was useful to her on the "right" side. In the dark, if they both dwelled there, he'd become another liability. She shook her head, "He's too righteous. He believes what he's doing makes a difference."

Wesker sighed, "Another Redfield. Maybe worse than him as Redfield is still a dog on a leash. This one...he seems to be the type to snap the leash when it suits him."

Ada considered that as well. He was right. Leon did march to his own drum when it suited him. She'd heard he'd seduced Sievers wife to get intel. It was a bold move, a dangerous one, and one she'd done herself when necessary. It stunk of spy instead of agent. He could, it seemed, dip a toe or a dick into the dark when it suited him. He wasn't above using his pretty face and his virile body to reach his own end.

It intrigued her. It added a layer of potential double cross that compelled her to remember he was, in a word, a genius. Though she might suspect he was a good natured hero, maybe he was really as convoluted as she was. Maybe...Leon Kennedy had his own agenda all along.

She tapped her toe of her heel while she dwelled on that. What if he was playing against her? What if he was more than a pretty face with an altruistic soul? Could she look down the barrel of her gun and end him? Or had she over played her own game to the point she was invested in him?

She heard the skitter of boots and the heavy jerk of a round chambered. Her brows lifted as she turned her head to find him starring down the barrel of his own at her. Her mouth turned up, "Hiya, handsome. Fancy a lift?"

The cave trembled. The walls shook. The tower was coming down. His best bet was in that boat.

Without a word, he took it. He leaped in beside her as she hit the throttle and raced out into the dark.

His gaze drifted over her profile as she rushed across the cold water. The night curled around them, chilly and tempest tossed, the sky grumbled and a spatter of rain hit his skin as the ocean tossed foam up from its disturbed depths. The boat sliced through the inky water while he watched her. Why was she always there when things turned bleak and hopeless?

What did she want from him?

His gaze trailed over her narrow waist. It lingered for a moment at the press of her nipples against the red cloth of her dress. She was cold. It was freezing on the open water, so it was no surprise, but there was the old trickle of a want to lower her top and put his mouth to her begging breasts. That was simple, it was as old as time, it was sheer physical attraction a beautiful woman.

He'd probably always want her. A simple biological urge to fuck propelled him to do that. His gaze traveled down to her exposed thigh in that heavy slit. The holster held her gun, but the wound above it gave him pause. It trickled blood down her porcelain skin to the velcro strap.

When he something cut her?

She was flawless save for that one wound.

Testing the limits of it, his hand shifted over. She let him touch her thigh. His thumb swept along the bloody mark, his fingers curled under the toned bottom of that smooth thigh. She arched a brow at him as the boat zipped toward the cliffs. "...like what you see?"

Without a word, he pressed his thumb against the wound - hard. She gasped. Her hands jerked the wheel and the boat spun out, smacking its side into the craggy cliff. He grunted and Ada gripped his throat to shove him back against his seat. She flashed a wolfish grin at him, "...little bastard. Like hurting me?"

He had the strangest urge to kiss her. An odd feeling given that he'd just jabbed her wounded leg to fuck with her. He murmured, "...depends."

"On?"

"On what you want from me, Ada. Stop fucking with me and just tell me."

She leaned toward him. Their noses brushed. His gaze flicked to her mouth, and she was aware of it. Her dark eyes sparkled as she told him, "Yeah. We both want that, don't we? Sadly...I don't fuck the infected. Save yourself, you fool, and stop being a hero."

He licked his lips and the corner turned up, "Sorry, kid. I yam, what I yam."

Amused, Ada laughed and the whoosh of her grapple gun was loud in the rustling night. She shook her head at him, "Noble bastard...you'll die being a hero."

"...better than living a liar."

Ah. Her eyes flashed. She curled her nails against his throat and had his answering them. They flashed with warning and...what? Want. Yeah. That was a trigger for her too. Danger. It was their bread and butter here.

She told him, "...see ya later, handsome. Try not to die on me...I still need you."

The gun whooshed. Her hand slid off his throat. He watched her body shoot upward and the boat spun out, throwing him sideways as he grabbed for the wheel to steady it. It bumped the cliff and had him sighing, "...women."

There was no one else in the world quite like that one.

* * *

Her heels clanged as she ran. She'd been stupid. She'd under estimated that idiot Krauser. She was on borrowed time. She could hear them struggle. She knew it was a fifty-fifty shot that Leon wouldn't even need her help here.

She couldn't take the risk.

She heard him shout. She heard the whoosh of war. She heard the strike of steel. Out of time. Out of luck. She reached the edge of heavy metal platform and heard Leon shout in rage...from the bottom. He was down. He was done. All the skill in the world wouldn't stop monster strength. Jack was fucking with him. Jack could rip his head from his shoulders and be done with it.

Jack wasn't Jack anymore. Not really.

The knife nicked the hollow of Leon's throat and spilled blood. His roar of anger echoed around the room. Impressed that he wouldn't die begging, Ada lifted her gun and shot the goddamn knife right out of the hands of his attacker.

It shot off and stuck in the grated steel with a clang. Jack took a kick to the chest at the same moment from his erstwhile captive. He was thrown backward into a flip as Leon gained his feet.

As he made his angry exit, he cursed, "I will enjoy watching you die...comrade."

Ada leaped down as Jack fled. She tilted her head at Leon as he tugged the knife free from the steel grated floor and mused, "Old friends?"

"...not exactly. You're my big hero today, Ada. Ready to start telling me why?"

As he turned, she gripped a hand into his vest. He froze, watching her face, as she lifted the other to swipe at the blood on his cheek, "An inch above and he'd have taken your eye."

She said it softly. He answered that tone with his own quiet one, "...I know."

"...a waste of a perfectly good eye." She moved her thumb from his cheek and he mused, "You got my blood on your hand."

She felt her mouth tilt into a smile, "Seems that way." She tucked the pad her thumb in his mouth and he sucked it clean of the blood, no thinking. Something in her groin tightened. She liked it. She like his eagerness to please her.

Obedient. Somehow, he was without even trying. His face didn't say that. His face was irritated. He didn't like doing it. He liked even less that it had be instinctive. The coppery taste of his own blood was lost after a brief flash.

Through gritted teeth, he hissed, "...stop fucking with me, god damnit, and tell me why you're here."

Ada winked at him and swirled away when he moved to take her arm. "...some of other time maybe."

She heard him curse as she leaped to the floor below.

He got the impression he'd be playing this game with her for the rest of his life. For better or worse, she was a part of him he couldn't let go of.


	7. Butterfly7

**Part Two: The Bitch in the Red Dress**

* * *

**A turning of the tables.**

**A start of an obsession.**

**A double edged sword the kills as it cleaves.**

* * *

**Rojo Muerte, Spain - 2004**

* * *

He staggered into the underground room and nearly went to his knees. Ada hurried after him, concerned he'd pushed himself too far. The loss of the pilot had broken something in him, she was sure of that. He was losing to the thing inside of him, badly.

She wasn't sure how much time he had, but that goddamn girl he was trying to save was costing him his life. She wasn't sure how to get rid of the girl without fucking up all the plans she had in place, but she'd like to. His heroism would be the death of him.

He stammered out a response when she asked him if he was alright. Her hand touched his arm above the elbow pad he wore. He trembled and covered her hand with his. A rare moment of weakness. It made her more worried than anything.

And then? He just...stopped. He rose to his full height and stopped shaking. Impressed with his resolve, she cautioned, "We need to get that thing out of you."

He turned toward her. There was something on his face that should have alarmed her, but she was too busy watching his eyes skim over her face. She had another moment of stupid that seemed to crop up around him.

She didn't think he'd hurt her. In fact, he looked like he might kiss her instead. Her head tilted back for it, curious how it would feel with that fever on him, and his hands grabbed her throat so hard it made her head burst with alarms.

The pretty blue of his eyes went blood shot and red, his hands squeezed hard and relentless, and he lifted her right off the ground by two inches as he tried to choke her to death. The panic hit the survival, her hand grabbed for the thin bladed knife at her thigh, her vision went red and white and she jabbed him hard in the left outer thigh. He grunted and her knee came up to hit him square in the balls.

That worked like a charm.

He dropped her and grabbed for his junk, tumbling to one knee. Ada had a moment of inner reflection as she realized she hadn't stabbed him in the goddamn heart. Why?

She needed him alive. It was that simple...wasn't it?

As he rolled to his feet, she backed away, afraid of him for the first time since she'd met him. A curious feeling. He wasn't just Leon now, he was Leon...and a parasite that wanted blood. He was the most capable creature on two legs, cursed with a monster that wanted death.

A dangerous, dangerous, dangerous man.

As he lifted a hand to her, she told him, "Stop chasing that girl and get that thing out of you. Every second you wait, it's hatching more inside of you. The next time, I won't just knee you in the balls...I'll put this knife in your throat."

Leon shook his head, stumbling, "I can't...I _can't. _I won't leave her to die."

"...fool. I can't help you anymore. You'll get us both killed. I won't sit around and wait for you to turn."

She left him in the room. She heard him call after her. She didn't look back.

But she didn't know why she didn't just end him now, before he could turn into the thing they were fighting. It was the first time she was afraid that he might not make it out alive.

And the first time she realized it mattered to her if he didn't.

* * *

It nearly cost her her life protecting him, but he made it. When the clock ticked to zero, he even gave up the sample like it was nothing. They both realized he could have fought her for it. They both knew he might have won.

They both knew he'd never hurt her.

It was a painful truth between them - she couldn't kill him and he couldn't hurt her. Stalemate. Checkmate. Damnit.

So he offered it to her in a way that made her almost want to let him keep it. Softly, she wondered, "...why?"

And he answered, "I saved the girl...make sure that wasn't in vain."

He trusted her. Somehow, after all of it, he trusted her to do the right thing. He was such a fucking boy scout under that hardening shell. Damn him - she didn't want to respect him.

Annoyed, Ada considered what it would cost to pull the plug on him. If she cut him loose, he'd be dead in a week with how he operated. Smart didn't make him savvy. He'd do the right thing and get himself a bullet between the eyes.

If she backed away to spare herself, she'd have wasted all the time she'd spent cultivating him. She couldn't let a little burst of conscious regarding his life sway her about her purpose here. Whatever she felt about him, he was a means to an end, and when the time came - she'd use him like any other weapon.

As she leaned on the wall of her safe house over looking Madrid, she let the cool air swirl around her belly. The bra she wore was simple and red. It showed the scars of her survival in Raccoon above it. He'd saved her goddamn life there as well. They both knew it. She'd fallen to her death with a bullet in her shoulder, true, but the wound of her leg would have been the death of her without him.

She had to keep the reins on this game or she'd find herself the horse instead of the rider. She didn't do well on the bottom.

There was a click of her lock releasing on her door. Her gun was on him as he stepped inside -unarmed, unconcerned, undeterred. He looked tired, bruised, and still had flecks of dried blood over his face and neck. The shirt he wore was grimey with sweat and filth. The vest was gone, lost likely to the last shock rod he'd had shoved against it on that island.

As he closed the door behind him, Ada instructed, "Go back the way you came, Leon, or I'll finish what Saddler started."

He shook his head as he turned to face her. "No, you won't."

Damn him.

She laughed, angry that he was right, angry that he _knew _he was right. "The sample is gone. You're wasting your time here."

"...I didn't come for the fucking sample."

He looked so mad. No, not mad...not exactly. What? She'd betrayed him on that island, but not really. He'd expected her to. He knew she would. He also knew he'd get that sample back. He'd stuck a tracker on it. He knew where it was. He had a team in place to intercept it. It was in transition from one place to another. It was on a chopper over the Baltic. Knowing the "where" was almost as important as getting the damn thing back.

Curious, she wondered, "How'd you find me?"

He didn't answer. He'd reached striking distance. It was time to shoot him or get rid of the gun. She couldn't bring herself to lower it, but she couldn't bring herself to fire it either. It was useless.

The barrel brushed his chest. His hand snaked out to grip the back of her neck, and she realized what he was there for. Her eyes flared. Her lips curled. She laughed, soft and taunting, "...you find me to fuck me?"

She let the gun drop as he drug her in. She let him do that too. She liked it. She liked that he was hooked enough on her to stalk her. She liked it a great deal.

She had him. He was _hers. _She'd pushed him just far enough to make him track her. A victory, on the eve of her feeling like maybe, just maybe, she'd pushed them both too far. No. She'd stuck her claws in him and infected him.

She was the parasite in him after all.

His mouth brushed over hers. His lips tasted coppery. She murmured, against his mouth, "...you stink."

And he thrust his tongue into her.

Oh, it was a rough kiss. It left her breathless. It was possessive and angry. It raped when it might have worshiped. His other hand curled around her throat. It was the second time that night he'd tried to choke her.

It was the first time he did it with his tongue instead of his hands.

Her back hit the dresser with a clatter as he forced her backward. She had no choice but to let him as her butt hit the surface and slid across it. She opened her thighs to let him in. He tilted her face back to kiss her so hard it made her jaw ache.

Ada's hands grabbed for his face to hold on. The hand around the back of her neck went down and right into her panties. She made a grab for it, gasping, "...wait-"

And he plunged two fingers into her. She bowed. She gasped. She scrambled her hands into his dirty shirt as he fingered her fast and hard. He was so crude, dirty, he grunted against her mouth, "...I'm tired of waiting."

Her head swirled. Part want, part deviousness...if she let him have her, really have her, would it bind him to her forever? Would it make him her slave? Or would it create an emotional link that was best avoided?

The want of her kept him chasing. The need of it kept him running. He was pushing faster, harder, further...to spite her or fuck her or figure her out. If she gave him all of her, let him use her and cum in her and claim her, he'd stop. He'd lose interest. It was what men did.

She needed him desperate, not sated. She gripped gripped his wrist to pull his hand free and his thumb found her swollen clit. Ada panicked, humped toward the relentless glide of his thumb in spite of herself, and protested, gasping, "-damnit-_don't."_

Don't? What? It didn't matter. He flattened one hand on her collarbone to hold her against the mirror and finished her off. She grabbed his wrist to thrust his fingers into her harder, made him laugh, and came humping against his hand. The orgasm had teeth. It ripped her apart as she shouted into his plunging mouth.

That was fine. It was ok. Her body needed the release. On the heels of what had happened, it felt good to give up that much.

His fingering hand left her quivering body to grip her panties and what? Rip them off her?

She put a foot into his belly and pushed him away, shaking. "...no."

He actually made a grab for her again and she gripped the knife on his thigh, jerked it free, and put the point against his wounded throat. He froze, nostrils flared like a bull, as she told him, "I said no. Don't make me say it again, Leon. I'm not a woman you force. Back off."

"...no? You just soaked my hand."

"Biological response. Happens when you stimulate the clitoris. You took anatomy, right?"

His jaw flexed. Angry. He was so angry. Why? That she resisted him? Did he think she'd cum, roll over, and let him fuck her like a dog? Her thighs were twitching, sure, but she could still kill him in the aftermath of her powerful release.

There wasn't a man alive good enough to fuck her into submission.

He stepped into the knife point and it drew blood in a smooth red line. She tilted her head like a curious dog, "Worth dying for? Just to fuck me? I'm not that good, Mr. Kennedy, and neither are you."

"We both know exactly how good you are. What's the problem, Ada? Can't enjoy it if you're not on top?"

He pressed against the blade and made her nostrils flare like a hunter scenting that blood. He wasn't wrong. She was the dominant bed partner. It's just the way she worked. She could, and had, given over to a man in her time to let him mount her, but those days were long gone. She didn't lay placidly beneath a thrusting dick and wait for an orgasm.

And she didn't give over just because a man put his hand in her pants.

Softly, she warned, "You're playing dangerously close to your own death here, Leon. I said back off. I won't say it again."

The knife spilled red blood down to pool in the hollow of his throat. It was a good moment. It was a hard truth. She'd created her own monster here in a way. She'd played with him enough that he was, almost, to the breaking point. He was almost ready to fight her to claim her.

Oh, she liked that. She liked it. He'd hurt himself to have her. But he surprised her and returned, "We both know if I wanted to, I could take you. Whatever game you're playing, Ada, I can play too. Maybe from now on it'll be you looking over your shoulder for me. Maybe the next time you want to jerk me around and use me, I'll give you the fucking you keep begging for."

Her eyes flared wide with amusement, "Do I? Am I begging you now? I said no."

He laughed too, dark, angry, and his hand went right between her legs to rub her over her wet panties. She didn't stab him, but she didn't pull the knife away either as he remarked, "Yeah...you always get wet when you don't want it?"

She'd liked the baby version of him. Sweet, soft, determined and noble. She was almost entranced with the grown one. He was so many shades of something she couldn't peg. A warrior, a wounded soul, a desperate dog on the leash of a powerful master. She wanted to see how far he'd go before he burned out and faded away.

Whose leash was he on? Simmons? Or _hers_?

So she told him, "You sound like a rapist. It's a huge turn off. I don't have any interest in being your cum dump because you nearly got yourself killed being a fucking idiot. You can touch me again when you stop being such a goddamn hero. Until then? Get your fucking hand off me."

His teeth flashed and he taunted, "You wave a red flag in the face of the bull, Ada, eventually he runs you down."

Her mouth curved up into a sly smile, "You can run me down when earn it, Leon. Right now? You're not even close."

They stared each other down until he finally jerked his hand off her and stepped away. She tossed his knife onto the floor and watched it spin. She didn't even move from the dresser, she stayed there - legs splayed, damp red panties on full display- and watched him pace like a caged tiger.

The anger on him was palpable. He gnashed his teeth and spat, "Always your way, Ada...you bitch."

He turned toward the door, stalking toward it. She called after him, "My way is the only way, Leon. When you understand that, you'll stop fighting me so hard...don't forget your knife."

He tossed an angry look over his shoulder, "Keep it. Consider it a consolation prize."

Ada considered him as he jerked open the door, "Did you show up here just to fuck me?"

He laughed, gathering himself by the door, "No. I showed up here to let you know I can play games too. The next time we meet, Ada, you better hope you know what the rules are."

"...you think you're winning?" She sounded so amused.

He shrugged and returned, "You so sure you won't lose?"

Wolfishly grinning, she taunted, "...and yet who showed up here like a desperate stalker in the middle of the night? Ask yourself whose game this is, Leon, and how much longer you think you can play it."

"...fuck you, Ada. Fuck you."

"...I'll let you know when you can. Until then...see ya, handsome."

With a curse, he snapped the door shut behind him.

Shit. He was the most dangerous game she'd ever played. However it ended, it was going to burn them both alive to play it. The thing about it? She was aroused. Fucking with him, fighting against him, drawing his blood and watching him resist the urge to take her against her will...it turned her own. Part of that was power, part of it was years of being at the bottom of a profession where she was anyone's meat that wanted her and rising to the top to be the best.

She wasn't going to give herself to any man who touch her anymore. Those days were done. But for a moment, a single moment, she'd been tempted to lay back on that dresser and let him.

A dangerous, dangerous, delicious game. How did it end?

She licked her lips, laughed softly, and slid her hand into her panties to finish what he'd started.

* * *

**Dorchestor, Idaho- 2005**

* * *

He could watch her tits bouncing in the window beside the couch. Face down, ass up, she moaned and thrust back on him while the television tossed light and shadows around them. His fingers curled into her dark hair to pull her head back. He put his teeth to her neck to suck.

She screamed and took it, pistoning her body like a race horse, as he fucked her so hard it knocked his teeth together.

She had big, lush, centerfold tits. His hands gathered them up to hold them and let them overtake his hands while he hammered her. She mewled on all fours like a cat in heat as he destroyed her. His thumb hooked into her slick asshole with a pop of sound, she bucked like he'd pressed fire into her bowels, and his hand slapped her ass to spur her on. She loved it. She slapped so hard back on him she nearly threw him off.

She came wet and loud, making a sound like a gasping sob. He jerked out, tugged off the rubber, and decorated her back in pearly ropes of cum. Done. Porno flick fucking in the dark while Jay Leno made jokes on the t.v. beyond them.

Saturday night success after a mission.

Uselessly empty.

He wasn't sure what he was craving here, but it wasn't this girl. It wasn't this moment. It wasn't any of this.

As she lay on the carpet, panting, he rose to go into the kitchen pour himself a whiskey.

Sweaty, bored, he leaned on the counter sipping the spicy liquid as she rose from the floor to move toward him. She was all hips and tits, she had a body that would probably go to fat in a few years but was lush and wanton now. She belonged on a stripper pole, not in a SWAT uniform.

Angela curled against his front with her curly dark hair around her gorgeous face. "...shit. They weren't kidding."

Leon arched a brow at her and she added, "Best fucking guy in the business."

He laughed, smacked her ass, and headed out of the kitchen. She was good in bed. She was entertaining. Pretty, just uninhibited enough to fuck like a whore, and eager to please him. He'd had a moment in Hardvardville when he thought about trying to get Claire into bed...but the truth was he respected her too much to do it. Worse yet? He respected her brother too much as well. Claire would want love, and he wasn't in a place to give it to her.

Angela had come on like a woman with a mission. She'd lost her brother, grieved like any self hating narcissist, and used sex to hide her emotional baggage. He got it - hell it was his modus operandi - and he used her the way she used him, without mercy.

The heavy scent of marijuana had him standing in the bathroom watching her smoke a joint in his living room. He almost joined her, but the goddamn tests with the government were so sporadic. His luck, he'd toke up, get pissed, and lose his clearance.

Better to avoid that particular vice in favor of a long career.

He showered. She joined him. He fucked her against against the wall while she creamed.

She left while he slept. Which was fine. He had no plans to see her again anyway.

As he stood in the mirror studying his face, his finger slid against the small scar near the hollow of this throat, and he knew what he was missing. Damn her. She was in his head, she was on his skin - he couldn't get her off.

He just wasn't sure when he'd stopped wanting to.

* * *

**Mincoxit Mining Camp -Adjacent -2005**

* * *

He was on a chopper to San Trope the following morning anyway. The long week that followed was nothing but dead bodies and disease. He was eyeball deep in a clean up regarding a T-Virus spill in neighboring villages when the nightmares started.

He'd gone a week after Spain without them, but whatever was left in him from the plagas seemed determined to haunt him. So he awoke shouting and fighting against ghosts that had no name. It pissed him off. It made him angry and desolate and raw.

He took missions to break up his descent into whatever quagmire of neuroses was going to be his cross to bear after surviving. A school filled with children turned into zombies. A blood bath of bodies and backpacks and barrettes in once blonde hair turned pink with death.

He traded intel with a snitch of his regarding the backers for The Organization - Ada's outfit. The sneaky subdivision of the former dregs of Umbrella. The whispers regarding Wesker's attempt to rebirth the dismantled giant were wide spread.

He found himself on the wrong end of a raid on a potential hiding place in the Sudan. He lost most of the men they'd sent to assist him. It was a trap, an ugly one, he led them in and watched them fall. The virus in that compound was something he couldn't understand, hadn't seen, and didn't know how to fight.

It made you hallucinate, it left you confused and lost. His men turned on each other when they couldn't escape the affects. They murdered each other in cold blood. They panicked and killed what they saw as monsters and ghosts and things that made no sense.

The gas was blue. The air was cold suddenly as if winter had settled in the desert. He found himself staggering into the dark to hide in a corner while the world ran with blood and bullets around him.

Infected. He was infected. Not like the plagas, this was something that was merciless. It had him the moment it touched him. Everywhere he turned, he saw the enemy. He fought in the pit to save that girl. The one that was real? Wasn't real? What was real?

A man with a hook for a hand grabbed for his face. Leon swung his gun up and it was knocked from his hands. The hookman flashed in, the hookman flashed out, the hookman sank that hook into his sternum, impaled him, and lifted him off the ground while the blood pooled beneath his dangling feet.

It laughed in his face while he grunted and twitched like a gutted pig.

And he died smelling the coppery stench of his own blood.

* * *

**Mincoxit Mining Camp -Adjacent -2005**

* * *

She stood over him. She had that moment where she had to decide if he was worth saving. She had a moment to realize she'd save him until she had what she wanted and could finally let him go.

She'd stood over Jack Krauser while he tried to crawl and he'd spat, "...what is this?! For that pretty faced pansy you keep chasing?"

Ada had leaned down beside his bloody ear and confessed, "Yes. You tried to kill him once in Columbia and his goddamn chivalry got him tortured. I told you - I don't like people who play with my toys...and you almost broke him. I don't like to share, Jack, and I don't take kindly to cleaning up messes made by idiots. You were dead the first time you drew a drop of his blood."

Gagging, gurgling, Jack had laughed darkly, "...bitches...even the ones with balls are still pussies. You go ahead and get revenge for your piece of ass, princess, maybe next time you can climb that tower on all his pretty hair to save him."

Ada had pressed her stiletto into his flayed back while he cursed and grunted in pain. "It's not about feelings, Jack, it's about possession. Until I'm done with him, he's mine. And you don't get to touch what's mine without losing a hand. In this case...we'll start with an arm."

He was still screaming when she severed that arm he'd been so proud of. He was still screaming when she left him without his balls on that rooftop. He stopped screaming when the bomb went off.

She doubted Leon would appreciate the poetic justice of it, really. He was still a good man under the rapidly thickening layer of jaded loss that coated him. Torture wasn't in his wheelhouse. He didn't kill for sport or revenge. She didn't either, but Jack Krauser was a man who used his balls and his dick to make women nothing. She made sure it was his balls that went first and made sure he died a crying mess instead of a man.

It was personal, and she was usually so careful to avoid that. She usually made sure to not make her job personal, but she kept picturing the face of Leon on those security cameras while he'd recovered in Columbia. Torture tended to make monsters out of men, or mire them in misery until they were no longer functional.

Leon had recovered, but he'd never been the same. She admitted to herself that she'd punished Jack for taking that shine off him. She'd always enjoyed the purity of the light inside of Leon before he'd lost it in that jungle. The flicker of hope was still inside of him, she knew that, but it would never burn as bright again.

That kind of death was immeasurable. She wanted it punished to the fullest extent. She'd done it in a way he'd never know.

But he was hers now - for better or worse- to protect and propel into the place where she needed him. Until the day came that she could let him go, she had to keep him going. She had to keep him alive. She had to keep him fighting.

They asked her where to take him. Should they take him back to his people? Should they leave him at a hospital in Beijing?

For better or for worse, it was up to her to fix him. So she looked at the man in the mask and told him, "...no. Take him to Kyoto. Give him to a man named Itsuki. He'll know what to do with him."

Just like that - he was about to be welcomed into a part of her life that she'd never opened to anyone. She was praying the decision didn't come back to bite them both in the ass. Itsuki would care for him, she didn't need to follow.

But she settled her affairs with the mission she was on...and she arrived in Japan three days after him anyway.

It was time to see how far she'd go to make sure Leon Kennedy lived.


	8. Butterfly8

**Part Two: The Bitch in the Red Dress**

* * *

**A touch mixed with temptation.**

_**A woman flush with secrets.**_

_**A man teetering on the edge. How far can he lean before he falls?**_

* * *

**Kagoshima, Japan - 2005**

* * *

Ada leaned on the railing, feeling the soft breeze off the ocean, and watching him sleep. She'd thought he was dead when she found him. He was covered in blood and lying on his side. His eyes had been the only thing in his face not red.

He'd been feverish and loud. He'd nearly gotten them killed. The infection set in before they could catch it.

He had multiple stab wounds over his back and chest. Something had cut him the fuck up. What? She'd had a team raid the compound to find it empty. The gas released had turned all of Leon's men into monsters. They'd slaughtered each other in some kind of blood bath that was still a mystery.

She'd found a bloody hook in the center of the pit where they'd likely found him. Alive, he'd been taken back to that lab and kept there while the nerds that ran it tried to decide the best course of action. Apparently, science didn't extend to medicine.

Two hours more of being kept in that place and he'd have died from blood loss. The least they could have done was bind his damn wounds. She wondered sometimes how the best minds in the world were often the dumbest.

Itsuki had muttered and cursed in heavy Japanese - the Kyoto Ben dialect that flavored his speech had been particularly thick. He'd spouted off angry rants until Ada had told him, "Enough. Can you fix him or not?"

He'd given her an angry expression and returned, "...you bring me this mess. You give me no explanations. I do this for you now, because you are my blood...but you do not make it easy."

Ada had lifted her brows at him, "That's not a yes, Itsuki."

"I cannot say yes. I can only say - I will try."

It worried her that he couldn't say yes. Itsuki was the best healer in the world. What did it mean when he was unable to save someone?

For eight days Leon lingered somewhere between life and death. The infection being drawn from him often resulted in his screaming. Itsuki had bound him to the table before each extraction, but it didn't stop the man from fighting it.

Jerking. Screaming. Roaring. Raging. He was a beast.

Finally, unable to listen anymore, Ada had gripped his face and slapped him back on the table while he hissed and spit. She'd warned him, "Quit resisting, Leon. Stop fighting him or I will sedate you."

Glassy eyed, confused, he'd still been enough of himself to know she was threatening him with drugs. He kept resisting those too. He seemed adamant about it. She gave him that courtesy and didn't shoot him up with morphine or anything else, but it made the pain he felt nearly unbearable.

Shaking with it, he'd held her gaze and told her, "...alright," Voice hoarse, scratchy, weak, "...whiskey. Please."

A small thing really in the face of all that pain. She'd gotten the sake off the shelf behind Itsuki and popped the cork. With a hand behind his head, she'd elevated Leon's neck enough to let him swallow it down.

After a third of the bottle had disappeared, he flopped back on the table, panting, "...thank you...shit."

It was the moment she realized it wasn't just the pain, it was the withdrawals. Whatever else he'd been, Leon was an alcoholic. He'd gone days without a drink, and his body was letting him know it. Without it, his body might start to hurt itself trying to detox.

She brought him sake every morning and evening after that. It wasn't right to feed his addiction, but she couldn't risk him having a goddamn heart attack from going cold turkey either. Besides, he was much more pleasant with a few drinks in him.

Even Itsuki was grateful for the change in his demeanor.

When he was stable, she had him moved from Kyoto to Kagoshima. It was more remote. It was less likely to bring attention. Eventually, he'd need to get out and start moving again. She didn't want him sticking out like a sore thumb and drawing attention during his recovery.

At dinner the night before, Itsuki had studied her until Ada had broken the silence, "...what?"

"What is this warrior? He is not like the others."

By "others", he meant the men, or the occasional woman, she sometimes brought home to her bed and never saw again. Selective, Ada was always careful about anyone she bedded. She never took a man to her bed without thoroughly vetting him first. She didn't do one night stands in bars. She made sure each lover that shared her bed was clean, safe, and unconnected to her world by any tether.

They were always, always, always brief. Never more than a day or two of time with her. She didn't date. She never, ever secured a relationship with a man. It wasn't her style. It wasn't of interest to her.

That Leon had been here, in her house, for weeks was a mystery to Itsuki.

She'd held the eyes of the older man and returned, "He is not a lover. He's an asset."

Itsuki had given her a droll expression and remarked, "He is not just business, _kodomo. _I can see you on him."

Curious about it, Ada tilted her head, "Can you?"

Itsuki had held her gaze, "What is he?" Not _who;_ _what._

Ada had finally answered, "He's like a part of me I can't let go of...let's leave it at that."

Now, as she stood watching him, Ada tried to make sense out of what it meant to be part of someone. It wasn't a good thing. This, with them, was toxic. It wasn't safe or good or reliable. They'd likely use the other up in some kind of race to the win.

She found it odd to know, under the layers of anger and resentment, she trusted him. It brought her pause. She trusted him. She knew, by this point, if he was going to turn her in, take her down, or take her out...he'd have done it. He didn't want her dead. Why?

Someone, somewhere might be stupid enough to use trite cliches such as love. But what was love anyway? A bullshit idea invented by someone to explain away what was, often, just common sense. Common sense said you wanted to fight harder to keep alive those weaker than you. It said protect what was yours. It said pick your battles and don't back down when you did.

People didn't fight for love, they fought to preserve what belonged to them. In whatever way might chafe or discomfit, she'd stamped some kind of possession on Leon Kennedy. He was hers. When she was done with him, maybe she'd set him loose and let him marry or retire or jump off a building to find his own peace or drink himself into oblivion - or maybe not. Maybe she'd reward him by letting him lay claim to her for a handful of days until he'd wrung his balls empty filling her up.

That's what men wanted after all, the fuck of their lives. Hell, the promise of it was making him fight on. Whatever else was true, men fought to get women. At one point, a man had put a horse filled with warriors into a city to claim back his woman.

Likely, Leon saw her as something he wanted to own. He'd keep on pushing until he did. The sad news was that he would never own her. She wasn't something you caught and kept. He'd spend his life chasing an idea instead of a real woman.

She almost felt sorry for him. The power of the pussy, after all, was a potent aphrodisiac.

He stirred on the bed. The ravaged and angry wounds across his sternum brought her padding in barefoot from the balcony. She dipped the cloth in the copper bowl on the nightstand by the bed and bathed away the sweat on his belly and chest. The fever had broken, finally, some time in the night.

The question now was how much damage it had done while it had tried to ward off the infection that was trying to kill him.

The interesting beard on his face was soft when Ada touched a finger to it. It was a curious strawberry blonde that reminded her that someone on his side of the family was a natural redhead.

With a groan, he opened his eyes to slits to find her looking at him. She'd perched a hip on the side of the bed. She wore a kimono in pretty red and black. It was stenciled with cherry blossoms.

The room was beautiful design of glistening dark wood and a wall entirely made of windows that led out to the balcony. The water beyond the raise tossed prettily in the rising sun. He could just make out the volcano beyond the cloud cover.

The cloth slid over his collarbone as he remarked, "...a curiously pretty view for being in hell."

His voice was hoarse, cracking, and his dry lips hurt. He almost asked for water and she slid the cloth of his lips instead and soothed him. His eyes fluttered as he added, "...shit. Am I dead?"

Ada smirked, "Not yet."

"I fucking feel dead. How'd I get here?"

With a sigh, she bathed the cloth down the left side of his ribcage, "This new fangled contraption known as an airplane. You might be familiar with it. It often traverses great distances at incredible rates of speed."

The second the cloth touched his wounded stomach, he hissed and his hand shot out. It grabbed Ada's wrist to halt it.

She tilted her head at him, "...wimp."

The slits of his eyes flashed. Bloodshot, they were still pretty under thick dark lashes in the pooling red of early morning light. "You gut me?"

She laughed now and tugged her hand free to put the cloth back in the bowl. "If I gutted you, you'd know it."

Hoarsely, he asked, "Yeah? How's that?"

"...because you wouldn't have survived it."

She had a point there. He had to admit it. She slid off the bed and disappeared through an oval opening. He heard water begin to strike metal and she returned with a towel to tell him, "Up. The fever broke. The infection is finally done trying to finish you off, but it's time for you to bathe the stench off you."

Softly, he told her, "...I'm naked."

Charmed that he actually sounded slightly sheepish, Ada told him, "Nothing I haven't seen before if you'll remember."

Right. He was being silly.

Leon felt the ache of a long illness in his bones as he shifted. Ada moved to put his arm over her shoulders as she guided him into the bathroom. It was a beautiful room that was glass on three sides and a huge tub in the center. The steam off the churning water alone looked incredible.

Ada eased him toward the steps and he went down into the water. It was fragrant, smelling like jasmine, and felt like nirvana on his tired skin. He let out a sound like he'd just had an orgasm and sank under the water.

Ada retrieved a bar of soap for his hair and set it on the out cropping beside the tub. She picked up a razor and some shaving cream as his head popped free and queried, "How brave are you?"

His eyes, looking alert and inquisitive, turned up to her, "...depends on what you're asking."

She lifted the razor and the cream, "Ever had a spy shave you?"

He considered her. He figured it was stupid to mistrust her at this point. If she wanted him dead, why go to all the trouble of making sure he'd lived? So she could slit his throat with a straight razor and watch him bleed out?

It seemed far fetched even for her, but that didn't mean he had to just do what she wanted either.

So he said, "Sure. You get to put that razor near my throat, but you do it naked, in here, with me."

Her brows winged up. He eyes sparkled with amusement. "You do like to share hot water with me, Mr. Kennedy. Do you think we'll finish what we started the last time we were in it together?"

He gave her bland eyes and replied, "I've been mostly dead all day, Ada, I don't think I'm in a place to fuck your brains out."

She tilted her mouth on a sly smile and set the razor with the cream beside him where his forearm rested. Her hands lifted to the ties on the kimono. He waited for her to ask him to look away, but she didn't even bother.

She held his gaze as she unbelted the kimono and let it drift and fall off her smooth shoulders.

When she'd been dangling, he hadn't looked. In the water when he'd held her and fucked her and nearly had her, he'd been unable. With his fingers inside her while she bucked and moaned, she'd still been in undergarments.

She was none of those things now. She stood there with her head tilted and her eyes on his, almost challenging him to look away. Her hips flared over legs so long they might as well have been their own person. Her breasts were surprisingly full above her nicely toned belly. He wasn't sure why it mattered, but he liked the fact that she hadn't waxed her mons bald either. She had a tasteful little triangle of hair above her slit that was nicely shaped.

Voice almost bored, he asked, "What...you don't like to go bare down there?"

Ada's mouth twitched as she slid into the water, "I'm neither a child, nor a boy so I don't pretend to be by waxing away all my body hair."

As she slid up beside him, he surprised her by shifting in the water. His hand went right between her legs. Her left one caught his biceps in surprise as he cupped her groin. She made a small sound of surprise and he remarked, "I like it."

A dangerous game. It seemed mostly dead or not, he was still a man.

She answered that move with her own. She slid her hand down his lower belly, tickled her fingers through the hair on his own groin, and gripped his dick in her hand. Like a charm, he hardened in her eager palm. She tilted her head at him. "I should say the same."

They studied each other in the steamy water. Finally, amused, they both left go. His arm shifted over the back of the tub again, as she bobbed forward to pick up the razor and the cream.

Leon laid his head back as she lathered him up. Eyes closed, sighing, he admitted, "Maybe playing with you is more fun than asking about where you found me."

Ada brought the razor over his skin. He didn't even flinch. A trusting man, when he wasn't sure the woman at his throat was even on the same side. "We're still trying to figure that out. You...were the only survivor, Leon. I need to know what happened."

He was so quiet she was pretty sure he wasn't going to answer...and then he did. He said quietly, "...I don't know if the hookman was real. I don't know what was. I just know...I've never been that afraid."

Interested, she murmured, "Ever?"

He cracked an eye to look at her, "...ever."

Ada swept the razor over his adam's apple - not even a flicker on that face. She smiled and shook her head, "Brave or stupid...I haven't quite figured it out yet."

"Both. Why am I here, Ada? Why do you keep making sure I don't end up six feet under?"

Softly, she responded, "I told you why. Is it so hard to believe that I like you?"

The razor swept over his cheek. He turned his head and it cut his skin. The blood was very read among the white cream. Their noses brushed as he answered, gruffly, "I don't think you like anyone, Ada. I think you don't like to lose your toys."

He was right about that, but not the first part. She leaned over until their lips brushed and replied, "I like you, Leon. What's not to like? Handsome hero with more balls than brains sometimes. You're charming and funny and ridiculously skilled. You're the package."

He started to speak and her free hand encircled his cock again. Instead, his adam's apple bobbed as he tried to swallow and she added, "And I like your package. Why does it have to be any more complicated than that?"

Hoarsely, he queried, "...you only like me when you can't have me."

Her eyes twinkled with amusement and delight. Did he really think she couldn't?

He was too sore to fuck her, he was right about that. The damage to his body had been extensive. He needed more time to heal. So she started stroking him in the water while the razor stroked down the cleft in his chin.

He trembled, she scraped the razor against the delicate place where his jaw met his neck, and her hand tortured him in the water. Quietly, she taunted, "Don't fight me, Leon. Don't move. Is any of this worth getting your throat slit for?"

Just like that, she had him. He knew it, she knew it - she pulled him with her on that line between danger and need. She had both in her hands. The key to his body and the key to his soul.

Checkmate.

He twitched like he might have a seizure. She watched him try to resist the pleasure she was milking out of him. The razor skimmed the bottom of his jaw. She felt his body shiver as his hands clenched on the wall of the tub and he grunted, "..._fuck."_

Ada laughed breathily and sucked the lobe of his ear into her mouth, murmuring, "You can't. Even you have your limits. Relax, Leon, and let me show you how much I like you."

Stupid. It was stupid. He knew she didn't have any kind of fondness for him. It was just another game, but it was one he enjoyed playing. Here, naked, exposed and vulnerable...it was just them in the water.

It was yards and years of conspiracy, but it was them.

Maybe it cost him nothing to let her jerk him off, and maybe it cost him everything. Either way, he let it happen. Good, bad, or otherwise - he liked her too. Even though he was pretty sure she was the most accomplished liar he'd ever met. Even though she let him touch her, ran away, and came back to torture him.

That would always be his greatest draw for her. He was just willing to walk that line between right and wrong. The right side of him told him to resist her. He kicked that side in the balls and went wrong, enjoying the dirty pleasure that came with giving up some part of his control to a spy.

For a handle of seconds, she'd been sure he'd play right into the hands of that goddamn Redfield girl. She was like a pimple, popping up to mar the surface of a perfectly laid palette. Ada was fairly certain if she didn't hook him completely, that stupid redhead might get right in under the wire and lay claim to some part that was best left buried.

To her surprise, he bypassed the Redfield girl for the frivolous SWAT one. He didn't _want _the emotional bond with Claire. He wasn't looking for that.

His careless, filthy, uninterested fucking aroused Ada. She liked him bored and balls deep in a woman without feelings. It was so much more honest when it came to sex. Enough holding each other in the moonlight, sex was as simple as orgasms and goodbyes.

While she stroked him, she urged into his ear, "Tell me about the compound."

He was aware she was milking him for information. She was _literally _milking his body to get him to talk, but she didn't have to. He'd have simply told her if she asked. In one hand, they were on the same side. Whatever she was doing, Ada always made good on her promises to him.

She'd replicated the vaccine like she'd promised. She'd assisted him in rescuing hostages as promised. She'd backed him up in a firefight as promised. Bad guy or not, she was a valuable asset.

He wanted whatever had killed his men in that compound destroyed. He'd tell her anything she wanted if it made sure that happened. The hand on his dick? That was just an added bonus.

Voice hoarse, he responded, "Put your mouth where your hand is, and I'll tell you anything you want to hear."

She laughed and kissed wetly along his cheek until he turned his head to her tongue. The kiss drug out, the razor skimmed delicately over his jaw and finally retreated, and they both let go - watching each other with swirling expressions.

Softly, she urged, "Let me help you, Leon, and let go."

Of what? His seed? His soul? His intel? Hell - there wasn't much difference anymore.

But he told her all about the hookman in a shaky tone that spoke of intense pleasure. She liked it. It was the best interrogation she'd ever done.

"And that's when I went down-_fuck, _Ada, stop. I mean it. I'll go otherwise."

"You'd rather it was me who went down?"

He couldn't stop the snort of laughter, "You kidding? Y.E.S."

She laughed too and set her razor down. The residual smears of blood tinged shaving cream spread to her as he turned his head and pressed their mouths together. Open eyed, they kissed almost delicately and he warned her, voice cracking slightly, "I'm gonna cum if you don't stop."

"So cum," She kissed him again, gently, "It'll feel good, I promise."

Oh, he was aware of that too. His hand caught the back of her neck, drawing a gasp of surprise and excitement from her. His hips tried to meet the pull of her on him and it caused pain to lance up from his belly. He hissed, Ada cautioned him, "Just take it."

And he did.

He took it.

She felt his body quicken. Ada slid over him. She straddled his body with her feet laid flat on either side of his hips. She brought the length of him to her to rub it over the lips of her pussy. She was, without a doubt, the biggest cock tease he'd ever met.

Curious, she cooed, "Should I put it in me? I think it would kill you."

He'd been mostly dead all day anyway. Maybe it was the best possible way to finish the job. He started to surge, the pain lanced and stole his breath instead, and Ada took his hands to slap them on the wall of the tub and hold them down.

Surprised, aroused, his breath caught again as she mewed, "No. You can't tear your stitches. Be still."

Shit.

He watched her face as she sank down on his body. Jesus. She was right about that. The hot water made them both insane or something. Her thighs, her hips, her planted feet and her body - she held his hands down and fucked him.

It was that simple.

It was smooth and almost gentle. No rough ride this time, a seduction. She didn't let him kiss her while she did it. She avoided his mouth and nipped his lips instead. She didn't even bother to pretend they weren't going to watch each other the whole time either.

He saw the pleasure. He felt her body suck him in. Tight and begging, the walls of her contracted to signal she was close. Her nails dug into his wrists, her back bowed, and she sucked his lower lip into her mouth with a mewl as she clinched and came.

He watched it on her, felt it in her, and knew the second he was there himself.

Feeling it, she hissed, "...not yet...beg for it and I'll let you claim me."

Bitch. He flashed his teeth and stuck his tongue in her mouth instead.

Stubborn. He was so fucking stubborn. She liked it. She didn't want to break him, she wanted to rule him. It was a fine line to walk.

Her feet pushed. His throbbing girth slid out of her and she spilled against his front still holding him down. She pinned him to the wall while he came, fighting the urge to hump through it, sending curls of cum into the swirling water around their hips.

Ada let go of his wrists. She'd carefully avoided his wounds while she'd pinned him. She slid away in the water while he trembled.

Voice shaky, he wondered, "What do I gotta do to earn you, Ada?"

Picking up the kimono, she kissed him upside down and said against his mouth, "...survive, Leon...and find out."

He watched her perfect ass head for the door. He knew by the time he got out of this tub, she'd be gone. There was no point in chasing her. It was like trying to catch a butterfly.

So he stayed in the water with the smell of her on him, and knew she'd find him again when he needed her.

He spent almost eight weeks in her safe haven. He was tempted, at one point, to pry and see what he could find on her, but he knew that was limited. Her man servant, or old friend, or medicine man was stoic but supportive.

He tended Leon's wounds. He spoke kindly. He was very, very tight lipped about Ada herself. He referred to her as _kodomo _which Leon was pretty sure meant child to some degree in Japanese. Was he Ada's father?

It seemed unlikely. Ada was Chinese...wasn't she? Again, her heritage was unclear. Her name was Chinese - Wong- but that was likely a pseudonym. He had no doubt Ada Wong wasn't her real name.

He had the option to leave her bedroom as he recovered. He didn't. He stayed. There was some kind of pleasure in being around her things. She had little left behind anyway, but what was there was telling.

A gun safe, locked with some code he couldn't fathom. A dresser filled with silky negligees and panties, stockings and tools of seduction. A closet that opened to show that Ada had a variety of ways she kept herself entertained.

There was a soft sided whip that hung there and some furred cuffs. Dangling from the hook where the cuffs were, a small note waited for him to open it. It had a red, red kiss and a single set of words:_ If you ever want to really feel...tied up. _

Amused, he wondered which person would wear them. The woman in red? Or her prey?

Leon considered the truth of that: was he? Was he her prey? It felt wrong somehow. It felt she'd simply tell him if he was meant to be her slave. In a way, he already knew she was using him.

Hell, he'd probably always known that. They were using each other when it suited. Maybe the perverse pleasure came from knowing whatever game they were playing, there were no concrete rules.

She was keeping him alive. Why? Eventually, he'd get to know the answer. Most likely he'd be eye ball deep in danger before he did, but she'd let him know. He watched the pretty play of light on the volcano while he thought of her with a small bottle of sake beside him.

She was the volcano, in her own way, she erupted when it suited her and left him behind covered in her ashes. He should get rid of her. He knew, in his guts, he could turn around, go home, and start something real with a woman who'd love and respect and appreciate him.

Hell, Claire did her level best to flirt with him openly and clearly whenever they were together. She was smart, beautiful, good in her bones, and brave. He could marry her, fill her belly with babies, and never look back.

His finger trailed over the cuffs that lay beside his thigh on the chair where he lounged.

And he just kept on staring at that quiet volcano.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part Two: The Bitch in the Red Dress**

* * *

_**The game changes.**_

_**The sword of justice is swift.**_

_**The taste of surrender begins to drown them both.**_

* * *

**Edinburgh. Scotland -2007**

* * *

The pound of her feet was lost in the bustle of the crowd. Heart racing, palms sweating, she ducked left under the over hang of the flamboyantly colored tent beside her and pushed into the bustling crowd. The festival might be the death of her as easily as the savior.

Ada slid among the bodies twirling and laughing and celebrating. She ducked and avoided drawing attention as fireworks lit the dark in bursts of color. The case tethered to the outside of her thigh beneath the bell skirt she wore seemed heavy somehow.

Her left hand clutched at the blood on her arm beneath the shiny red sleeve of her costume. She was a harlequin, as were many others in the bustling crowd, but she was probably the only one with a bullet in her skin. She was a limping a little on one side from her twisted ankle as well.

But she had the T-Avian sample in her possession.

Doctor Demarliere had somehow managed to mutate the The Abyss virus to make it aerial. What had corrupted those cruise liners was now in the skies. She'd seen the horror in the tanks in the lab. Birds perverted into demons. Bats made into monsters. Bees birthed out of nightmares filled with claws and teeth and death. She collected the sample...and set the timer on the lab to blow it sky high.

Her betrayal of Wesker over giving him the wrong plagas sample had burned her bridge to the 3rd Organization. As it stood, she was freelance. Cut loose from the ties to a great master, she was able to maneuver,almost undetected, in the underbelly of a world ripe with conspiracy. Eventually, she'd have to tie herself again to a cause at least for funding toward her end game - but for now, she was a spy operating in secret in possession of the only known sample of the next wave of bio-warfare.

Security had conducted a routine sweep an hour earlier than planned. They'd caught her exiting the lab. To lead them away and limit the fallout, she'd let them chase her over the long hallway in the church proper toward the festival. One of the trigger happy assholes had winged her in an attempt to validate his life as a rent-a-cop. The bullet had made an annoying stop over in her upper left biceps.

The bleeding was bad. She was partially afraid he'd nicked the brachial artery. Ada staggered through the crowd, slid around a tent selling fragrant teas laced with liquor, and slid to one knee in the dirt. She jerked up her sleeve, scrambled a hand toward her skirt and tore a piece of shiny cloth off it. Using her teeth, she bound the bleeding wound as tightly as possible. If it was arterial, the damage would lose her the goddamn arm if she didn't get the bullet out. Left untreated long enough, the wound would eventually kill her.

Gaining her feet, a little light headed, Ada shook it off and ran across the damp grass toward the far side of the church grounds. The laughter and revelry kept the eyes of all the people behind her. They watched the skies, they danced and played, they had no idea that a hundred yards away a madman was creating a virus capable of global extinction.

Jesus.

There was a shout as one of the security team spotted her. She limped and ran for the farthest end of the dark courtyard. She heard them running after her. Some idiot popped off another shot and it kicked up dirt in a muddy spray near her left foot. Fools. For all they knew, she was a scientist who'd simply ducked into that lab to look at data. If they'd have not turned aggressive the moment they'd spotted her, she'd have produced fake identification to clear her from any suspiscioun,. Instead, they'd immediately turned hostile. Trying to kill her was juvenile, amateur, and stupid.

The next shot hit the heavy column beside her as she ducked around it. It sprayed stone as Ada raced for the opening in the archway, lifted her grapple gun, and hit the trigger. She went up, the men shouted in surprise, and one fired wildly into the dark after her.

On the roof, Ada stumbled toward the west side, hit the trigger again, and zipped out over the parking lot. As she came down, her ankle gave out and spilled her to her knees. A bullet hit the quarter panel of the car she was beside and threw sparks.

If she hadn't have gone down, she'd have met her maker in that moment. Her bad ankle had saved her life. Rolling around the car, Ada hit the button on her detonator. Enough was enough, she was done playing hide and seek with rent-a-cops.

The explosion was so loud it was deafening. It met the noise of the fireworks and blended. While the security guards shouted and ran back toward the blazing fire, Ada slipped into her non-descript sedan and drove out to the road unnoticed. She left the world on fire behind her, and didn't look back.

* * *

**Aberdeen, Scotland - 2007**

* * *

The little stone house was no bigger than several hundred feet. It was on the waters edge and quaintly tucked back away from a road that rarely saw visitors. Nevertheless, she cleared it as she entered, stumbling forward toward the kitchen.

Her numb fingers knocked over things on the tiny counter before she gripped a bottle of whiskey and jerked the cork out of it with her teeth. She dumped the hearty liquid over her arm, hissed, and took a long swig on the bottle to fortify herself. Her left arm was tingling and going numb. She was running out of time.

Some lucky shot by a stupid fool would be the death of her.

Her fingers grabbed for the cutlery drawer. She dragged out a steak knife and a spoon. The door to her cottage shivered and Ada flipped the knife in her hand and launched as it opened.

The blade struck the door a half an inch from Leon's left eye.

He froze, brows arched, "...you missed."

Ada slumped against the counter, "...no I didn't. It was a warning."

He closed the door behind him, secured the bolt, and moved toward her, "Stupid to leave yourself exposed like that, Ada."

"...save me the fucking lecture, boy scout, and get over here."

He did, swiftly catching her under the armpits as she swayed forward. He lifted her and set her on the counter with a curt, "Lift your right hand and grab the cabinet."

Ada gave him a narrow look and he added, "Support yourself and let me do this. Unless you want me to sever the whole arm and be done with it."

Her hand curled over the cabinet pull and held. She jerked as he tore her sleeve up to the shoulder. Swaying, Ada watched the wall blur and turn pink and gold. Great, she was starting to black out.

There was a sharp pain that made her gasp as Leon widened the wound in her arm to be able to get his fingers into her and retract the bullet. She watched his profile and mused, slurring a little, "Last time you had your fingers in me, I felt like this too."

The bullet pinged into the sink as she dropped it and wrapped a heavy dish towel around the room to put pressure on the wound. "...how's that?"

Her lips slid against the side of his face. Leon turned his head enough that she spoke against his mouth, "...dizzy."

Apparently, an Ada weak and lethargic was a slightly more romantic soul. Amused, his eyes sparkled, "Oh, yeah? Feel good?"

She grinned a little, "I don't know...put your fingers in me again and let me compare."

His free hand skimmed up her leg, danced against the bare skin above the thigh high, and dipped under the edge of her panties. Honestly? Arousing her couldn't hurt. It would keep her awake when she might otherwise pass out.

So he obliged her and slid two fingers into her body. Her eyes flared. The dilated look in them went from lethargy to arousal. She moaned and opened her mouth to let him kiss her. Her eyes shut, his stayed open watching her as she spread her legs a little wider for him.

It was always a rare thing to see her this exposed. Wounded, weak, and willing - she didn't resist. He tested her by murmuring against her mouth, "Can I have you now, Ada? Have I earned you?"

She moaned and shook her head: no. Amused, he stopped fingering her when he felt her body start clenching. He didn't want her to cum, that would push her further toward shutting down. So he left her aroused and throbbing.

Her eyes snapped open and she hissed, "...who's the tease now?"

His teeth flashed wolfishly as he held pressure on her wounded arm, "I'm willing enough. You want me to fuck you? I couldn't last time, but I don't really get off on fucking girls that are half dead like you do."

Her legs hooked around his ass and jerked. He spilled against her as the hand holding the cabinet above her let go, shot out, and grabbed his throat. She snarled, "Half dead or not, I'm still better than you'll ever be."

In the semi-darkness, she could see he was strapped into a heavy tactical vest and fatigues. The thick leather coat he wore was left unzipped and allowed easy access to the huge knife strapped down his chest.

He watched her glance at his knife and back at his face. So he teased, "Wanna risk it? Grab for it, and we'll find out."

"You like when I grab for it, remember?" Although when she shifted, she couldn't feel that he was erect behind those pants he wore. So he was just playing with her for the sake of it. Bastard.

She tilted her head at him as he grinned in return, "...why are you here, Leon? You stalking me?"

Testing her, he pressed his mouth against hers. She returned it, a smooth touch of lips. The fishnet thigh highs she wore, the knee high boots, the sparkling costume in red, white, and black...she looked like a dirty perverts idea of a court jester or something. Tracking her hadn't been easy.

The first call had told him that there was an asset of his on the move in Kandahar. He'd hopped a plane to find out she'd already cleaned up any usable intel through the back channels of a black market sale of the missing T-Abyss virus. Thanks to the missing traitor Sherawat, there were samples in play that should have been destroyed after the outbreak aboard the Queen Zenobia.

Sadly, Sherawat had gone into the wind and not popped back up again. Finding her was like looking for a needle in a stack of needles. The only lead he'd had was a dealer named Matanbo out of Kandahar. The guy was willing to trade intel for a clean slate. He'd been first on Leon's asset list following what happened in Spain. Matanbo had a tendency to pop up there when he was most needed.

The vest Leon wore was the one he'd acquired from Mantanbo. It was the best quality tactical vest he'd ever owned. He'd traded it in Spain for am empty 9mm. A fair trade. It had saved his life more than once there.

Matanbo had proved to be a valuable asset. He sold to both sides, indiscriminately, and relayed intel when it suited him. Keeping him in play had netted them more one potential terrorist looking to acquire or sell weapons. Matanbo's intel alone had stopped the black market sale of two nukes stolen from a Russian depot in Moscow. They'd barely made it across the border into Syria before they'd been hijacked by the US government.

Crisis averted. That intel had made sure Matanbo received protection. The moment he popped up as having witnessed a sample of Abyss being sold, he'd relayed the information. Ada had scored the T-Abyss before he could get there.

What was worse? The rumors started about a man using another sample to create an aerial version. Matanbo had given him the name of three potential mules in Europe that might have made the sale.

By the time they found the right one who'd dealt to the Doctor at the University in Edinburgh, the damage was long done. The lab was in flames. The sample was gone...and then?

Ada Wong had made a single mistake.

Just one. Just a tiny one.

He'd found a smear of blood on a car in the parking lot. It was nothing. It might have been from anyone cutting their leg or something. But the drip pattern suggested it had fallen from above.

And the guards were jabbering on about how they'd "stopped an intruder". So Leon, curious, had asked, "You shoot them?"

Proud of himself, the fattest guard had vowed, "I did. I got her."

Her.

HER.

Spidey senses tingling, Leon had prodded, "Her? What did she look like?"

The skinny guard had replied, "Pretty. Tall. Hard to see her under the make up...but her wig slipped. I think she had black hair."

Without another word, Leon had scooped the blood on the car onto a swab and walked away from the police while they continued to question the guards. A quick test had been an easy answer. Ada.

Her blood didn't pop as Ada in the system. It came up Jane Doe, but it had her suspected terrorists acts on it and a slew of aliases for her.

After that, it was a matter of digging through cash rentals in the area. A generous pass of cash to the palm of a shopkeeper in town had told him a pretty Asian woman had rented his house on the shore for a week.

Without another word, he'd set out for Aberdeen. He wondered if he'd gotten here any later, if she'd have died on the floor.

Ada tried to kiss him again, pale and somehow still beautiful beneath all the glittery face paint, and he told her, "I need to stitch the wound, Ada, so we can bind it and let it heal. Do you have anything?"

Dizzy, she answered, "...bag. In the car - the bag in the car."

"Got it. Come here." He picked her up in his arms like she wasn't muscle and carried her over to lay her on the soft old couch in the small living area. She watched him lay a fire without any real effort, felt the heat off of it, and sighed as he disappeared outside.

She was almost asleep when the pain hit her broadside. She came awake shouting, but he'd tied her hands together and bound them to couch arm to keep her still. Surprised, Ada gasped, "...enjoying this, are you? Hurting me and holding me hostage?"

Leon rolled his eyes as he kept on stitching the inner layer of her skin closed, "Don't move, please. You'll make this harder than it needs to be."

Relenting, Ada whispered, "...is there any other way?"

The stabbing pain at least kept her alert as she watched the flicker of flames in the fireplace. It was toasty warm in the little cottage by the sea. She could hear the crush and slap of waves on the rocks beyond the thin windows. To his surprise, she spoke first into the silence, "...why are you here, Leon?"

He snapped off the end of his stitch and started binding the arm. She was watching him now with her arms above her head secured. With a shrug, he admitted, "We're always asking each other that, aren't we? I was tracking the same sample. You got there first."

Shit.

_Shit._

She jerked on her arms as he secured the bandage, "You bastard...where is it?"

His eyes were ice blue in the firelight. He managed to look innocent, but was guilty as hell. "What are you talking about?"

Ada jerked on her arms, "Don't you dare-I mean it, Leon. Where's my fucking sample?"

He said nothing. He stepped back from her. The sample case was gone from her thigh, damn him. _DAMN HIM._ She tugged on her hands once more. "Don't be stupid, Leon."

He paused by the door, watching her bound on the couch. Ada gave him a filthy look and finally intoned, "Come on...we can work this out. Let me synthesize it, like before. That's fair, right?"

Fair. He wasn't sure she knew what fair was. Her breasts were making a platter of something he wanted to taste in that stupid slutty costume she was wearing. She was always torturing him and running away. He just wanted to fuck her, hard, and be done with it. Would it purge his system of her?

Or would it just make him even more of an addict? Fair. There was no fair when it came to Ada Wong.

He licked his teeth, jingled his keys in his pocket, and finally came back toward the couch. Relieved, Ada shifted until she was sitting up with her feet on the floor. "Thank you. Untie me. It'll just take a minute and then you can go."

She should tell him about Simmons. She should mention the side he was playing on was dirty, but would he believe her? She wasn't his most trusted adviser here. She was a woman who systemically tried to outwit, out run, and out play him.

He set the little case on the table. Further relieved, Ada responded, "...thank you for not making this difficult."

It was interesting to feel a surge of guilt at how simple he was being. No nefarious double cross here, just a guy who trusted her. It was the first time she felt a little bad for using him.

Leon slid his jacket off his arms and tugged the knife from his vest. He tossed the jacket on the couch to the side of her and brought the knife toward her. She angled her wrists up at him with a good amount of respect, "...you're humbling me a little here. Do you have anything to say?"

The knife touched her bonds. He studied her face. She felt a flutter of panic at the calm expression on him and she warned, "...don't."

His brow arched. He gruffed, "Don't what?"

"Don't be stupid. Cut me loose."

And he responded, "You're a little tied up at the moment, Ada. Sorry I didn't have any fur lined cuffs."

Shit.

She almost swallowed her tongue when he slid the point of the blade down her costume. It made scratching sound and had her mouth going dry. She didn't even have the words when the knife slid against the crinoline of her skirts. Shaking her head, she said, "...you're making a mistake."

Oh, he had no doubt about that. He'd made it years ago when he left her alive on that platform, but he wasn't making it now. The knife split the skirt with a sigh of giving fabric. The rough material fell out to the sides, cleaved in half. She felt her breath hitch as the knife slid under the soft black lace of her panties.

The look on his face made her pulse speed. She didn't even protest as he jerked the knife and the panties ripped down the middle. Her hips jerked. Her arms shivered.

Tilting his head, he asked, "What? No more warnings? Say no. Just one word - say no. I'll stop."

She had no doubt. He was just that guy. He wouldn't force her and he knew her well enough to know that this behavior would intrigue her. So, Ada held his gaze and answered, lips dry, "Your move, handsome. What now? How far you wanna take this to prove you've got me at your mercy?"

Leon grinned, "You think I'm playing?"

And she laughed, "I think we're always playing. What's your game? You wanna trade a good old fashioned fuck for the sample?"

He made her jump as he thrust the knife in his hand into the couch cushion beside her head. She felt a real flash of fear that worked like an aphrodisiac. It made her head spin more than the blood loss had. He could kill her.

He could fuck her.

He could leave her there exposed.

A powerful game.

The split panties clung to her thighs, black above black fish net stockings. Black above red boots. Black like a frame around the most vulnerable part of her. Exposed. She was, in this moment, completely exposed to him. She resisted the urge to close her legs. She left them parted for him to see her.

The tables turned sometimes in the most tempting of ways.

Softly, she taunted, "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

How far would she go to get the sample back? Those days of fucking for the job were long over, but this wasn't job. It was personal. He was damn sure making it clear that it was his turn to hold the power over her.

Was it that simple? Was he just looking to prove he could win against her?

Unable to read him, Ada finally said, "What do you want here, Leon? What are you doing?"

Without a word, he settled on the floor at her feet. She couldn't even find a single word of protest as he shifted her legs over his shoulders and put his mouth on her. If he'd stabbed her to death with the knife beside her, it wouldn't have been more shocking.

Ada gasped, she humped toward his face, and her thighs quivered. Maybe she'd known all along that's what he wanted. Maybe it was a clever ploy on his part to force some of her possession back on her.

His tongue struck as swift and talented as any other part of him. His hands slid up her belly, caught the ragged edges of the costume she wore and jerked, splitting it to the collar. She pulled against her bonds, watching his face between her legs as he sucked, slid, and savored her. He watched her body for signs, he listened to her noises, he angled his mouth to hum and help himself to her flavor.

The orgasm built as his hands skimmed up and palmed her breasts over the pretty bra she wore. When his eager mouth found her clit and started sucking, Ada felt her lips open a high pitched keen. He wasn't gentle. He pushed against her body with his mouth, licking, thrusting her legs higher on his shoulders, curling her body back as he feasted. Ada tried to buck against his face and she was too held down, too restricted. Instead, she let the pleasure cover her.

Why not? He was good at it. He used it like a weapon, and the slice of need left her gyrating against his eager mouth. Her body vibrated right at the edge of orgasm. She gasped, desperately, racing toward her own release.

When her thighs tightened and her body seized, his teeth bit gently at her swollen lips. The cry she released was loud against the crackling dark. It felt like he'd shot electric pleasure into her body and shocked her into a coma.

She came wetly against his face, cursing, rubbing her slick heat all over his sucking mouth. Dirty. Nothing pretty or sweet about it. He let her flop back against the couch. His arms forced her legs up obscenely as he rolled up her body with her still open before him. He jerked up her bra to smear the slickness of her all over her breasts as he helped himself to them and made her squirm and tremble. He wasn't easy there either. He nipped and sucked and suckled with enough teeth to make her start panting.

Her legs were draped uselessly over his elbows.

Ada watched him mound her breasts together and bury his face there, inhaling her. Voice hoarse, she whispered, "Cut me loose, Leon. Hurry."

He lifted his head, shrewdly watching her in the firelight with the taste of her still on his lips, and sucked her nipple into his mouth while he watched her face. Ada quivered as he let it slide out of his mouth and rasped, "Why?"

He leaned toward her. She arched her neck. They kissed and shared the flavor of her release between them. She watched him shiver with it and cooed, "So I can return the favor."

"Yeah?" He let her legs drop and frame his hips. His pants were cool and rough on her swollen lips. He was fully erect behind that zipper now, she thought with a tremble in her belly. Ready to go. He rubbed himself on her lewdly, "You want me to fuck you?"

Clever, clever boy. She felt her eyes twinkle with the thrill of the hunt. "No. I want you to put your dick in my mouth."

Amused, he leaned back. "Some other time."

Her legs landed on the couch. Her breasts trembled and bounced as she landed there.

Brows arched, Ada shivered on the couch, "You're denying me?" Her tone was somehow amused and insulted at the same time.

He laughed and tapped the box, "Not entirely. Maybe it's time you earned me instead. See ya round, gorgeous."

He tugged the knife from the pillow. She sat in utter surprise as he simply left her bound to the couch and walked out the door. He helped her, tongue fucked her, dumped enormous pleasure all over her...and just left?

After a moment of twisting, the bonds on her hands wouldn't give. She almost cursed him but her fingers touched something in the pillow above her bound wrists. She gingerly tugged the little scissors he'd left there. A single snip freed her hands.

She reached for the case on the table, smirking. What game was he playing now? Touching her, teasing her, tempting her...and running away. That was her game. She was fascinated to know she enjoyed the return of it.

Right up to the point that she opened the case and found it empty. The little note inside said: _Sonja Nadahn. Your move__. _Sonja Nadahn was the regional head of the Pharmacom pharmaceutical company. They were heavily invested in the creation of vaccines and curatives for bioterror events. She'd come out openly against WilPharma during the scandal involving the T-Virus vaccine.

What was he saying? She was dirty?...or was he saying that's where the sample was going? What was this? A dare?

Aloud, she laughed, "...bastard. You fucking bastard."

Ada rolled to get her phone and found it missing. The flare of surprise and pleasure was sharp and layered in irritation. Beaten at her own fucking game because of a bullet in the arm.

Insulting.

He'd shown up, helped her, fucked her all up with pleasure, stolen her goodies, and lied to her face. Slippery little shit. He wasn't just a boy in Raccoon City anymore. She fingered the little note in the box and shook her head on a dry chuckle.

The student was swiftly becoming the teacher.


	10. Chapter 10

**Part Two: The Bitch in the Red Dress**

* * *

_**A heartless choice.**_

_**The soul divides.**_

**_There is no one without the other._**

* * *

**Seattle, Washington -2008**

* * *

The curling smoke obscured the blue eyes that held hers across the table. The buxom blonde in her pencil skirt and silky blue camisole crossed and recrossed her legs as her red, red lips turned up in a smile. Her heavy breasts were topped by cleavage that kept drawing the eyes of the men in the bar around them.

Sonja Nadahn was beautiful in the way Marilyn Monroe had been once. She was pin-up girl pretty with big bowed lips and high cheekbones under piles of blonde curls. The stappy sandals on her delicate feet with the deconstructed business suit she mostly wore were Blahnik and a gorgeous satin cerulean.

The jacket for the suit was dangling on the chair behind her in a bar that reminded Ada of _Cheers. _It was dated, circulating in the eighties style of bold Tiffany lamps and long red felt pool tables. The crowd was mostly young twenties and mixed with urban professionals in their end of the day attire.

Ada wore an oriental style dress in white graced with peacocks done with a skillful hand and lotus flowers in her signature color. The black piping was curled around the keyhole opening at the high collar. The snug-fitting design left no room for the outline of the wrong lingerie and so she wore a tasteful g-sting, slinky thigh highs, and a silk bra in beautiful ivory and red beneath.

Sonja was swirling a long-nailed finger in her glass as she watched the other woman. "You just want me to...what? Give you access to my files? Allow you to look into my research and discover the link between the work of Dr. Chenkov and the movements of Albert Wesker?"

Ada smiled, her lips curling in the smoky air, "Hmm...not Albert, not exactly...the other Wesker. The one we thought was dead. Spencer would have told you about her. The woman. The one with the illness."

Sonja nodded, lifting her finger to her mouth to lick it clean. Ada arched a brow as the other woman wondered, "And what will you offer me? I can't you have anything worth trading."

Ada pursed her lips, "I think we can work something out. I have a great many talents that I use with pleasure for my...friends."

A cosmopolitan arrived in the hands of a handsome waiter who smiled, winked, and told them, "From the man at the bar."

Ada turned her attention as Sonja made a hmmm sound, "Handsome. I wonder how he'd feel about being invited to our friendly meeting."

He was handsome, Ada would agree with that without question, he was also a slippery little shit about finding her. How? She'd been under the radar for quite some time since he'd cuckolded her in Scotland.

The pretty nearly sky blue of the shirt he wore looked nice with the steely gray vest and slacks. The boy was a man, it would seem, and gestured to her with his amber glass of whiskey in a salute.

Amused, Ada returned. "Hmmm...is he your type then?"

Sonja swirled her finger in the glass again, eyes bright, "Entirely. Are we friends now, Ms. Wong?"

Ada gave her a sultry smile as she rose, "We will be before the night is over..but my friends call me Ada." She leaned over until their noses brushed and almost purred, "Shall I see about adding your suitor there to our party?"

Sonja shrugged a delicate shoulder and glanced at Ada's mouth, "...perhaps threes a crowd?"

Ada felt her teeth flash, "Hmm...the more the merrier?"

The silence was tense with excitement for the blonde until she finally bobbed her head, "...I'll watch from here."

Ada turned on her ice pick heels and crossed the dimly lit bar. She felt her smile lift into a Cheshire Cat grin as Leon rolled around on the stool and she slipped right up against him as he parted his legs to let her. Her hand caught his tie, her other took his drink from his waiting fingers, and she sipped it while he watched her. Without a word, Ada pressed her mouth to his, waited, and shared the spicy liquid between them when he opened his mouth.

A show - for her target at the table - but not entirely. A tease for the man who'd left her fuming with nothing but a throbbing clit and a bandaged arm. As his tongue swept into her mouth, Ada felt his hand slide down her back, curve over her ass, and tug. She was pressed against him close enough that she knew he was happy she was there.

As they separated, breathing heavily, she murmured against his mouth, "...you clever thing...you knew she was a lesbian. You knew I was her type. You set me up to let me play with her and get what you wanted?"

His eyes were bluer than a winter sky but warmer than a sultry summer one as he simply curved his mouth up in a smirk. Impressed, Ada looped his tie around her fist and licked his mouth, adding, "Play along and we both win."

His hand hooked at her ass, curled in enough to make it possessive, and tugged her tighter to him. It was aggressive enough it made her gasp and her nipples press against his chest. They eyed each other in amused arousal until he finally spoke into her mouth, "...deal."

They kissed again, slick and hungry. Nobody took their eyes off the other until Ada caught his bottom lip with her teeth, tugged it gently, and peeled herself away from the front of his body. "Follow. Behave."

She took his hand, turned, and hold it over her shoulder as she led him toward the other woman. Sonja, impressive breasts bouncing, rose from the chair and paid the check with a dump of bills on the table. They didn't speak as they followed her from the bar and joined her in the back of her town car.

The second the door was closed, she hiked up her skirt, bared her perfect thighs and the edge of lacy black panties, and slid right over Leon's waiting lap.

Ada, amused, leaned back in the seat across from them in the dark murky light of the passing cars beyond the tinted windows and watched the one blonde attempt to devour the other. He was good, she'd give him that, he played the game in a way she hadn't expected. He tucked his hands under Sonja's skirt and palmed her ass, he rolled her hips atop him and made her moan and tremble. He didn't have to fake that. He was just that good at what he was doing.

Ada enjoyed the show of it. She crossed her legs and lit one of the cigarettes she found on the minibar in the long cab, watching them paw and play in the twilight interior. Sonja went for his tie and spread open his vest. She pawed his chest over the pretty shirt he wore.

As she moved her mouth to suck at his neck, his gaze went right over her shoulder and latched onto Ada where she watched them like a beautiful voyeur in a sultry story. His hands shifted enough around the thighs of the woman licking all over his neck that his fingers could slide in between and skim the heat of her over those black panties. She moaned, he jerked her into a dry hump that made the woman atop him quiver, and Ada felt her lips lift in a wry half-smile.

Did he think to make her jealous?

She studied him as he avoided the kiss of the other woman skillfully, tilting her head back instead to kiss down her neck. His eyes _never _left Ada where she perched and watched them.

Did he think to make her excited?

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. It was a curious thing that she was a little of both. When she winked at him and blew a curl of smoke into the air, Leon buried his face against the bounty of all that natural beauty that was Sonja's breasts and made her writhe.

He was better than she'd thought. Ada tuned her ears as his fingers dipped further under that skirt. The blonde atop him made a small high pitched cry. She rolled her hips and whimpered, his right hand tucked completely and the soft seduction of the car was split with Sonja's whine of release.

He'd gotten the woman to cum atop him with a finger fucking and teeth against her tits. It wasn't surprising. He'd done the same to her in Scotland. He was a man who understood his body and the body of a woman. He'd spent enough time between the thighs of the softer sex to anticipate their needs.

He might be a bit of a pain in the ass sometimes, but he was good in bed. There was no denying the simple joys of the flesh when the game became something that needed it. As Sonja collapsed around him, Leon watched Ada over her shoulder.

Ada saluted him with her glass of champagne and had his teeth flashing in a grin.

How long could they play this game without someone becoming the victor?

She was fairly sure they were about to find out.

* * *

Sonja was sound asleep on her belly beneath a swirl of white silk sheets. The sedative Ada had put into her vodka had finally kicked in. The woman was a wanton creature of the first water.

Pleasing her had taken some amount of effort before she'd finally taken a drink. It wasn't that Ada minded letting a woman between her thighs. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last.

Sonja had been eager enough to eat her out and let Leon watch them. She'd been a vigorous lover so there was no complaint there and Ada had certainly been happy enough to lie on the expensive sheets and watch Leon watch her as she done in the car. He'd been a good cuck, showing enthusiasm and interest when Sonja would roll Ada to her belly and lift her ass to go at her from behind.

Lips and teeth, tender or passionate, the blonde woman might be a traitor to her own people but she was a determined lover. On all fours, Ada had submitted to the mouth and the hands-on her hips and the tongue inside her. It had once been her ticket out of the slums that had started her journey to the woman she'd become.

Ada Wong was not the girl she'd been in those filthy rooms. Ada Wong was no one's whore. What she did now, she did of her own volition. She did it with full knowledge of what came after it was over. She allowed the pleasure of it to mix with the joy of knowing that on the computer in the office across the hall was all the information she'd need on the missing Wesker.

As she rose from the bed, Leon emerged from the office. The low lights from the bathroom across the room cast her body in shadow and yellow light. She wore those thigh highs and the garter. Sonja had taken the panties but demanded she leave the rest.

He wondered if he'd ever really forget the sight of one beautiful woman between the frame of Ada's satin clad legs. Sometimes, the game they played was a double-edged sword. He'd felt both searing desire and crippling jealousy sitting in that chair.

He wasn't sure which one pissed him off more.

Ada cast a look over her shoulder at him, "She's out. She'll be down until long after dawn. She'll wake up knowing she had the best night of her life. What did you find?"

He held up two memory sticks and poked one in his pocket. The other he held out to her. She cocked her head as she turned toward him. Her belly was sleekly muscled and her breasts high and proud. Part of him hated her, part of him craved her like a drink after a long day.

She waited and finally asked, voice ripe with amusement, "You want me to come fetch?"

Out until morning. The woman who'd had so much information on that computer of hers that he'd uploaded most of it to a secure server at Langley before he'd spoofed the rest to the drives he'd made for himself and Ada. He gave USSTRATCOM what they needed to shut down Nadahn. He'd taken the information she had on Wesker Ada had wanted and cloned it to both his drive and hers.

So, it would seem, they'd be in a race against each other for who could find the woman first.

Once the sun came up, they'd be on opposite sides of the line again that seemed blurred and broken in the dark bedroom. The bar, the car, the high rise apartment where she'd watched him while another woman pleasured her. The look on her face while he'd made that big breasted bitch atop him tighten around his fingers and moan like a whore...he didn't know who he was when Ada was near him.

He just knew it was the only time he ever forgot about the line between right and wrong. He didn't just cross it when she was near him, he obliterated it and bathed in the joy of being bad. Damn her. The hold she had on him was easily severed.

All he had to do was just pull the gun from his holster and finish her off. His hand shifted to it. Her eyes widened as her lips lifted. "...really?"

Gruffly, he told her, "...I should turn you over, Ada. Give me a reason not to."

He watched the challenge of it flicker over her face. Her nipples were peaked above that shadowed belly of hers. She didn't demurely cover herself. She didn't bother. Somehow? Even mostly naked in nothing but that garter and hose and heels, she was still a lady.

The thrill of her words made them both aware of where they stood, "We both knew if you'd wanted that, you'd have done it in Raccoon City. So, what do you want, Leon? You've got what you wanted out of me, you have what you came for...why are you still here? Go back to your master."

"...and you'll go back to yours?"

The shiver of anger was fast and gone; a shadow of a feeling. "I don't answer to anyone. One of these days, you're gonna figure that out. You could have fucked Nadahn yourself, we both know that. You played me like a fiddle to get me to do it for you...why?"

His response made her teeth flash in an answering laugh, "Why not? Games are fun."

"Aren't they? Wanna play another one?"

No. He should turn her over to the people in the right places to put her in a prison cell somewhere. He knew it. He knew she'd play games with his goddamn corpse if he didn't.

But his mouth said, "...why the hell not?"

She put a handout and her fingers passed over the drive that he held aloft to her. His left palm caught her wrist and tugged. She tumbled against him, the drive bumped soundlessly in the carpet on the floor, and her nails curled up his back.

Leon fisted her hair, his fingers curling along the back of her skull as his right hand slid over her ass to bring her into him. She opened to his tongue. She allowed it. Her breasts pressed into his chest as the kiss went on and on and on with delving tongues and diving heads and desperate breaths.

Desperate hands scooped down the backs of her thighs and lifted. She came up, bouncing, as her legs looped around his waist. He angled her against the wall as Ada's grasping digits went down, down, down and jerked at his fly. His mouth ate along her jaw and down across her collarbone. He sucked one of her breasts into his mouth as she thrust a hand iside his pants to pull him from his boxers.

Stupid.

He was on a mission. He had a communicator in his ear muted from his handler. Ingrid Hunnigan was patiently waiting for a status update. He had what he'd come for. He'd played the game and gotten the intel. His job here was done.

The target for the takedown was sleeping eight feet away in a drug-induced slumber. This was probably the dumbest thing he'd ever done. He should cuff the woman in his arms and take her in.

But it was her that took him in.

The slick eager walls of her cunt constricted the second his hips surged and buried his dick in her. Ada made a sound like a cat purring and her blood-red nails cupped around his jaw to turn his face from her throat to her mouth. They kissed, open-eyed and wet. His hips drew back and claimed her again so hard it made her back slap against the wall as her body accepted him. He watched her eyes flare and her mouth open in surrender.

His mind said - _she's faking. _His body said - _who gives a shit?_

He didn't.

He was helpless against it. He was done fighting it. He just let her hold his goddamn face and force him to look at her as he pulled back to the tip and tried to break her pelvis when he shoved back in. She liked it. The harder, the better; the faster, the tighter she became around him. His hands bracketed beside her head in a push-up, his hips pistoned into her while her legs clenched around his sides and the damning drench of her pussy simply stole the last of his resolve.

Angry, desperate, he growled, "..._fuck _it."

Her laughter was high and musical. She gripped his jaw and curled her index fingers over the rapidly pounding pulse just below the delicate curve where it met his ear and her thumbs against his Adam's apple. His hips punished them both. He fucked her so hard that the sounds she made were animal in nature.

The moment she jerked on his hair to kiss him, he threw her onto the bed on her back. Sonja stirred and murmured above her. Ada bounced and came down as he grabbed her hands in one of his, slapped them over her head, and tried to fuck her through the bed beneath her. Those silk-clad thighs opened wide, her left heel cut a jagged path over the expensive sheets, and her groin shoved up against his to urge him on.

Leon's free hand latched at her throat to squeeze. She gasped, she bowed, she commanded, "Now!"

His hand seized hard at her delicate neck, she let out a gasp of something like fear, and he pinned her goddamn arms to the bed, her back and ass to him, and soaked the sucking center of her hungry cunt with the most painful orgasm of his life. His hand lifted her by the throat to slam her into the mattress with it. He grunted and he groaned, he cursed and his balls tightened until he was half-convinced he'd feel his own cum spill around the thrusting length of his squirting cock as he claimed her.

Ada couldn't make a sound as her face pinked with his assault. His hand let go and she drew in a sharp, high, desperate breath as Leon released her hands, grabbed her hips, and tilted her against him to fuck her through his release. Ada's hands scrambled, they grabbed his tie one and slapped his face with the other. When she mewled, he ground into her body so hard it had to hurt her.

His voice dragged as Sonja snored a foot from Ada's bouncing breasts, "Go, goddamn you! _Go!"_

Jesus.

Her body reacted. It liked him angry and hard and hurting her. She gasped, she clutched madly at him and milked his plowing member with her panicked pleasure. Ada slid a hand down her belly, twisted her fingers twice against her clit, and cursed him, "..._bastard!"_

Leon hammered her while she came. Hard. She came so rough it squeezed him like a fist made of sticky, spongey, weeping steel.

She resisted it, his left hand caught her face to turn it away from him, and he pulled out and shoved into her again until he was finally, finally, finally finished.

Sonja murmured in her sleep. Leon grabbed Ada's face and kissed her. Sweaty, slick and panting, they both engaged in a battle of tongues that made her whimper. When he let her go, she flopped back on the bed.

He thrust once more into her sopping signs of surrender and made her slap his face again.

Leon grunted and pushed up from her body. It released him with a regretful sucking sound. Her belly contracted and her body clenched at the rough goodbye. Before he reached to button himself back up, his hand lowered and smeared the evidence of his victory over her all-around perfectly used mound. Her smile was wolfish as he curled his fingers tucked his cum into her body like he'd brand her.

Her eyes were bright, "...was it good for you?"

Her voice was breathy.

Angry, he returned, "I've had better."

Oh.

Oh oh oh.

Her amusement was rich and loud. She snapped her thighs around his hand that was playing in her folds and slipping against their mated juices. "...liar."

Leon's other hand grabbed the back of her neck. He jerked her up to his mouth and Ada turned her head to force his lips down the side of her neck instead. Annoyed, he told her, "...I made you mine."

She laughed, delighted, "No. You fool. I'm not your girlfriend. I'm not your wife. I'm no man's possession. A fuck is a fuck is a fuck is a fuck. The woman behind me? She fucked me too. Or did you forget?"

Ada watched the thunder of frustration as he let go of her. She curled on her side like a cat, watching him zip up his pants. She liked him so unpredictable. It made him even more interesting than she'd ever expected.

Her chin propped on her hand as she observed him tossing his hair back with such a scowl it made her mouth lift in a smile, "...don't be angry, Leon. It's so terribly trite. Do you love me?"

He froze. He gave her a killer glare and she laughed, softly, "Do you? You don't even know me. I'm not yours. You're not mine...unless you want to be." She purred it now, crawling on all fours to the edge of the bed to give him a sultry look, "If you're mine, stay. Stay here and serve me. I promise I'll use you...so much better than those fools who own you."

He picked up the drive from the floor and fisted it, giving her a look that should have vaporized her on the spot. Ada felt her mouth turn into a grin, "...you're angry with me...it suits you. Maybe you should ask yourself why. Is it me you're angry with...or you?"

The flash drive in his hand plopped on the bed beside her left hand. Ada stayed on all fours, taunting him, tempting him while the woman they'd screwed together slept peacefully behind her.

He didn't know who he was anymore when she was around him.

He was starting to wonder if he'd ever again be the boy in Raccoon City who'd just wanted to save the world.

Ada crooked a finger at him, her breasts shadowed and beautiful and begging for his hands and mouth to taste her again. She let him see just enough of her delicious ass to notice the wet trail of his seed sliding down her toned thighs toward those torturing stalkings. And she purred, "Stay...and I'll make you mine."

He shook his head. He backed up two steps and she laughed playfully, calling, "...hmm...coward."

With some kind of guilt, he turned toward the light beyond the door of that den of desire where he'd finally laid claim to the thing he wanted. He'd wanted to purge her from him, to free himself of her power over him by taking her and leaving her dripping with him, but even there she'd defeated him.

Because all he wanted to do was see how good it would feel to be hers.

And he hated them both for it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part Two: The Bitch in the Red Dress**

* * *

_**A woman without a key.**_

_**A key without a lock.**_

**_Two bound souls looking for freedom._**

* * *

**Helsinki -2009**

* * *

The echo of gunfire chased her into the cold room. Ada slid against the wall as she slapped the door shut and wedged it with the desk beside her. She very nearly swallowed her heart at the voice that joined her in the shimmering dark.

"...well...you're fucked."

She spun, the gun came up and was caught in a fist and jerked from her grip, and a hand grabbed her throat and thrust her against the wall as it was her own weapon was used to push against her ribs. "Ease down. It's me."

Me.

Me?

Her eyes tried to make sense of his face in the dark as she wondered, "...Leon!?"

"...seemingly. You expecting someone else?"

Her hand on the taser secured to her thigh slid away as she whispered, "What the hell are you doing here?"

His snort was quiet as the men outside rushed around trying to find the intruder. "...I imagine the same thing you were, but with less of a mess. What the hell did you do?"

Ada hissed, "Someone triggered the silent alarm."

His breath tickled her ear as he leaned in close, "Yeah? Not as good as you think you are then."

Ada curled her hands into his vest and growled, "It wasn't _me, _you jackass. You come alone?"

"Lately, doll face, I _always _come alone."

Ada rolled her eyes and returned, "Somebody screwed me."

The second she said it, she wished she could get it back as he answered, "...well...that _actually was_ me."

She shoved him away as the noises died beyond the door. "Focus on what matters here. Who knew? Besides us...who knew?"

The shared data between them over their naughty night together had obviously gathered them both at this little obscure lab to grab onto a sample of the prototype mutagen that the missing Alex Wesker was rumored to have stored here.

So far, it was just a lot of danger and not a lot of reward.

They studied each other as their eyes adjusted in the dark. She was in black and outfitted with a vest and the occasional flicker of knives. No red dress, no seduction, no games - this was a woman on a mission. Leon shifted in his own tactical gear and returned, "No one. I'm here on my own time - furlough- and off the grid."

She sighed, "Damnit...me too. Ok.." The noises picked up again as the men kept shouting about intruders, "We need to get out of here. Let's pool our knowledge and make it count."

Nodding, Leon mused, "I scaled the western wall and came in through the courtyard."

Ada, impressed, told him, "I submerged and entered through the lower level water reservoir."

There was a quiet moment before he suggested, "So what if we go right out the front door?"

Surprised, she turned her head over her shoulder as he clarified, "They're gonna be hitting all the major hubs of escape right? They'll leave one guy guarding the main gate at most. Hell, they might leave it totally unstaffed checking the egress points that seem more obscure. If I can set off some false alarms..."

Ada finished, impressed, "We can walk right out without a battle."

"Exactly." He opened the communicator on his watch and filled the dark with silver light, "I'm gonna hack into the main security and trigger some alarms in the compound."

Ada moved to the desktop on the darkened console, "Give me five minutes and I can do it faster."

"Yeah?"

"...yep."

Leon shrugged, "Game on."

She started typing furiously, he tapped his watch and stuck something in his ear. Ada saw him slide on glasses and lift his hands. With awe, she speculated, "...you wily bastard. You have access to the VR being beta tested at the Pentagon?"

"Nope. Just playing Tetris." He quipped and the gloves on his hands lit up at the finger tips as he visually navigated the security in the lab.

Amused, Ada keyed in the first alarm. The world flashed red and white, the footsteps rushed past the door, and Leon told her, "Second and third ones should go off in a waterfall effect in about eight minutes."

She told him, "Release the locks on the main hallway."

"Already done." His hands lowered.

Ada watched him pocket the glasses and mused, "...you know I'm going to be taking that off you before we're done right?"

Leon smirked, "Give it your best shot, sweetheart."

He eased open their escape door and gestured her out with his head. They moved quickly and efficiently, slipping through shadows, and avoiding detection as they crossed the long corridor toward the main gate. When two men hurried by with guns, Ada tucked him into a corner with her and covered his mouth with her hand.

Eyes twinkling, he waited until she lifted her hand and wondered, "You think I was gonna shriek in fear and ruin our cover?"

Her mouth twitched as she stepped away from him and hurried toward the expansive lobby. They cleared as they ran, covering balcony and main level in sweeping turns. Ada pushed open the heavy doors and Leon joined her in the courtyard. Lights flashed and swirled around them. The guard towers had their spotlights aimed over on the eastern side as more alarms began to blare.

They hurried toward the main road and one landed on them. There was a shout, Ada grabbed his vest from behind and warned him, "Grab on."

"What?"

"Grab me."

One of his hands grabbed her vest, the other grabbed her ass, and she hit the trigger on the grapple gun as heavy artillery fire ripped up dirt and grass at their feet. They were jerked up and away, flipped over the barbed wire fence abroad, and landed in the thick marsh on the other side. They split, started running, and Ada called softly, "...I said grab me...not grab my ass."

"...I'm a man of opportunity, doll face. It's what I do."

She laughed. He snorted. And they hit the heavy line of forest and kept on going.

After about an hour of picking through the forest, Ada let her guard down enough to tell him, "I think someone might be playing us both."

He stepped up beside her, lifting an arm to bat away low hanging branches so they could slip through a narrow passage of heavily gnarled trees, "How so?"

"The mutagen should have been there...the only way it wasn't was if someone knew we were looking and led us on a wild goose chase."

"Hmm."

Ada sighed as she lifted her phone to key in some data, "...I'm not usually wrong. The damn thing should have been there."

After a long moment, Leon finally admitted, "...it was."

Her gaze shifted from her phone to his face. His smile lifted and he told her, "...I have it. I got to it before you did."

She lowered her phone to stare at him, "...you what?"

"I got it. I have the mutagen. You want it?"

Her lips pursed, "...what do you want?"

He shrugged and started through the trees again, "I've had it. There's nothing you can bargain with now, sweetheart. Been there; done...well..._that."_

Ada rolled her eyes. She started after him, musing, "I can have a vaccine produced before anyone in Washington...you know that. It's not personal, Leon, it's business. Let me help you...and you help me. Whatever you think, it doesn't have to be more than that."

He paused, he turned back to face her, and remarked, "You really believe that?"

She shrugged, "You made it personal, remember? You grabbed me. You threw me down. You had your way with me. You made it personal. Now you want to...what? Punish me because I didn't feel the same way about it? You wanna punish me, when you know I can get an inoculation in the works so much faster than you can, because I don't love you back?"

The humor on him shivered, "...nobody said a damn thing about love, Ada. I think you're overestimating yourself."

She flicked her gaze over him, "Am I? That's what you want right? You want me to love you? You want to be my lover?"

She took a single step forward, "You can be my lover, Leon. I enjoy you. I think we have chemistry. We can do that...but I think you want something I can't give you. I think you want love in a way that wouldn't suit either of us at the end of the day. Don't make a stupid decision because your feelings are hurt."

He started to say something snarky and angry and the red dot on her forehead had him springing forward instead. She tried to back off and he tackled her, taking them both down as the tree where she'd been exploded in a scatter shot of bark and boom. Ada clutched him, he rolled left with her against him, and threw them both into the cover of the filthy swamp.

They sunk into the murky water as more bullets lit the top of the mossy mess above them. When he handed her a heavy reed, Ada used it like a snorkel and poked it above the water as they kept submerged and started moving. They sounds of pursuit were lost more and more as they went. They both felt the movement of things in the swamp with them and kept pushing on.

Ada was really hoping there wasn't an alligator waiting to eat her face off on the other side. As she emerged from the filthy dregs of stagnant stench, Leon remarked from the shore, "Sorry about the hard tackle back there."

She turned her head to look at him as she brushed moss and moldy water off her face. "...don't be. I'd be either dead or in their custody if you hadn't...so..." The quiet stretched out before he looked down as he cleaned the filth off his weapon.

And she added, softly, "...thank you."

Surprised, his gaze flicked up to her face and she was already looking away into the dying day. "I don't have a clue how close they are. I think we need to make a break for the safe house I have in place beyond the pines over there."

Curious, Leon narrowed his gaze, "What kind of safehouse is it?"

She smirked, "The kind where you don't die and nobody comes looking for you. What do you say?"

"What the hell, right?...lead the way."

Her mouth twitched, "I thought that wasn't your style."

He laughed and fell into step beside her, "I don't think I know what the hell my style is anymore with you, Ada."

She couldn't stop the wink as she hurried forward into the encroaching darkness. He blew out a heavy breath and followed her righteous ass right into the unknown. God knew, he couldn't be sure she wasn't leading him to a slaughter.

He was just trusting she'd keep him alive long enough, at least, to get the damn mutagen he had on him.

* * *

The place beyond the pines was the damnedest thing he'd ever seen.

It was just beyond them, it was _in _them. She had a safe house in the trunk of a pine tree. Like something out of a fantasy movie, Leon watched her touch a notch on the big tree and step through the opening that appeared.

He followed her down a narrow set of stairs as the last of the lingering sunset was swallowed by the door that swung shut in their wake. The dark curled around them until she touched something on the wall and filled the eerie black with flickering bulbs. The small chamber at the base of the steps was somehow classy despite behind austere.

The two bulbs that dangled were battery operator, but the computer sitting on a roughed out box turned into a desk was powered by some kind of power cell that was run into the ground beneath them. The bed was full size, on a pallet laid on the ground to hold the mattress, and covered in a set of black sheets draped over by a blood red comforter.

A tiny shelf graced the floor by the bed and had a handful of books set on it. Some were dusty and untouched, but the one with a dog earred cover drew his attention. As Ada started typing on her computer, he picked up the book and felt his mouth turn up into a smirk.

"...Annalise knew it was wrong. It had to be...it had to be wrong to want him the way she did. She was a woman with more sense than to crave the son of a simple man like the butcher...and yet his smile haunted her as his hands did, skimming down her long white legs to the c-"

Ada gave him a murderous look over her shoulder and had him grinning. "Laugh it up, Kennedy. You find my taste in literature amusing?"

"...you have _War and Peace_ over there and an entire set of books about hacking various systems...and this. This trashy romance novel. Those look basically unread, but this one? This bad boy has seen some lovin."

When she ignored him and went back to typing, he mused, needling her, "...did she end up with the butcher's boy in the end? He clearly knows how to handle his meat."

Ada rolled her eyes and turned back to face him, "I have an evacuation in play for six a.m. Help yourself to the book and find out, we've got plenty of time."

As she turned toward the small shelf beside her computer stocked with bottled water, Leon teased, "...I'll just skip to the good stuff. Does she learn how to handle his meat too? Or what?"

Ada said nothing as Leon leaned against the wall with the book lifted for his amusement. He whistled low and told her, "...apparently the answer is yes. Annalise seems to understand all about his sausage...does he learn about her rump roast?"

She sipped water and arched a brow, "...you're having way too much fun with this."

"...I'm mostly just curious if she has roast beef curtains..."

Ada heaved a heavy sigh, "Give me the mutagen, Leon, and make life easy here."

He shrugged a shoulder and kept on reading, "We back to this? I'm not interested in dealing. I'm actually starting to think I might do better handing you in."

She set down the water. He lowered the book when she was silent. They stared at each other until she finally spoke into the silence, "...give it your best shot. You're in _my _safehouse. It's _my _team coming to extract me. I can see you to safety, and you can make it worth my while, or you can take your chances up there on your own. Either way? I'm not offering you a deal, I'm offering you a chance to come out of this with your life."

His brows arched up as his mouth twitched, "You threatening me?"

She tilted her head, "Do I need to? You're being petty. You're acting like a rejected prom date. We both know I could take the damn mutagen from you if I wanted."

Annoyed now, he tossed the book on the bed. "Yeah? Let's see what ya got, princess. Nothing but time here, right? Come and get it."

They stared at each other. They both vibrated with energy. Finally, she warned him, "...don't be stupid here, Leon. You have a chance to keep things like they've always been between us."

Surprised, his teeth flashed, "How's that, Ada? On _your _terms? I'm bored playing it your way. You want what I got, sweetheart, you're gonna have to take it from me."

She tossed the water bottle before he even finished taunting her. It smacked into his forehead as he met her halfway. She swept for his feet, he crossed shins with her and grabbed her throat, she over rotated and dropped her arm to free herself from his grip and he hooked an ankle behind hers to spill her backward into the wall.

Ada hit and slid down it as he grabbed for her throat again, she pummeled toward his groin, and his other hand snatched her wrist to sling her forward before she struck. Ada rolled and whipped around to throw her leg out to take his, and forced Leon to stagger as she grabbed for his belt, rolled to her back, stuck her feet in his belly, and slung him up and over.

He hit on his back on the mattress and she rolled into a hand stand, pushed herself into a cartwheel, and came down atop him on the bed.

It was a half hearted battle at best.

They both knew it.

As she landed, she grabbed for the knife at his vest and jerked. It came free, he caught her wrist as she angled it at his throat, and he wedged his pistol into her ribs as they faced each other from inches away. Breathing heavily, he urged, "...go ahead. Can you cut me before I blow apart your sternum?"

Ada panted softly above him and finally answered, "...why didn't you let them finish me off out there in the swamp?"

They continued to mesmerize each other in a tense silence until he uttered, "...I don't fucking know. I _hate _that I don't fucking know."

She kept on watching his eyes as he added, "...wanna tell me why you don't just kill me to get what you want? What's the games, Ada? What's the point? You let me fuck you, you let me touch you, you run away and taunt me...why? Why not just ask me for help? What good does it to play with me?"

She wanted to give him something for saving her life. She wanted to give him some kind of reward. She couldn't give him the love she knew he wanted. She wasn't built that way, but here and now? She could give him the truth.

"...I like games. I'm good at them. I'm even better with men. Men are simple, they're mostly controlled by their dicks, and their dicks rule the world. To operate in a world of dicks, I become the thing they want to fuck. I knew you wanted to fuck me, I knew letting you just might work to make you chase me even harder...tell me I was wrong."

Their gazes clashed for so long that she was pretty sure he wasn't going to answer her, and then? "...you don't have to play games with me anymore. You want to work together...let's work together...but no more goddamn games."

Quietly, she let their lips brush as she returned, "...you like the games."

He shook his head and she added, "...you wouldn't play them if you didn't. What do you want from me, Leon? Right now, in this moment, what do you want?"

Their noses brushed. Their eyes held. He didn't look away and she _loved _that he didn't. He might have been a puppy once, but he was a wolf now. He wasn't just chasing her...he was hunting her. It made her blood boil with excitement.

After a handful of seconds, she urged, "...you want me gone? Say the word, tell me you're done, and we'll deal with each other like two men brokering a trade. Is that what you want? You want to stop playing games?"

Her nose brushed as her mouth did, over his like butterfly wings with each word she whispered, "Just...say...stop."

To her infinite surprise, his voice came low and grumbling, "...stop."

If he'd slapped her, she wouldn't have been more surprised. Ada drew the knife away from his throat and sat up. She flipped the blade over and offered it back to him, hilt first. He kept the pistol on her as she rose up, straddling his lap, but he took the knife back.

Without an edge of anything, she informed him, "Fair enough."

He watched her slip left and roll to her feet beside the bed. She moved and sat down in the chair beside the computer to face him. He watched her on his side on the bed until she finally told him, "What do you want?"

His brows arched and she added, "For the mutagen, for the VR capabilities, what do you want?"

Leon scoffed and rolled to his back to look at the ceiling, "...why not? Let's bargain. What do ya got?"

Without missing a beat, Ada told him, "...Jill Valentine is alive. Albert Wesker is using her to harvest antibodies for the T-Virus and create a devastating viral agent capable of complete global annihilation at an undisclosed location near Mauti Kifo, Africa. My guess would be Kijuju - since it's in the midst of a political coup and looking for a new dictator. A perfect opportunity to use it as a stomping ground for a near fatal attempt at genocide."

Leon stared at her on his back like she'd grown a second head. Ada held his gaze equally and finished, "If he succeeds, everything I've done is for nothing. I need him stopped. I need the intel leaked to the BSAA in a way that they know it didn't come from me. They need to track a shitty arms dealer by the name of Ricardo Irving. He's the mouth piece between Wesker and the dregs of what's left of Umbrella. He's working in conjunction with a black market syndicate known as Eiderdown. Their main line of operation is out of Klagenfurt, but I can't find the base of operations. I'm hoping you can help me there."

Leon kept on staring at her until she prompted, "...you're familiar with Austria?"

He finally nodded and remarked, "I am. We've been watching Eiderdown for some time actually. I have a contact on the ground there undercover."

Ada bobbed her head, "Good. Let me copy the mutagen and I'll show you how to get in touch with Irving and fake a buy. I'll take the copy and offer it for sale via a dumbie corporation to weed out the higher ups on Eiderdown. Your asset can use the opportunity to prove themselves by brokering the sale and get themselves inside the higher circles."

They held eyes until he eventually retorted, "...deal."

Ada nodded and rolled around in the chair to start typing on her computer as he watched her. After a few minutes, Leon remarked, "...you wanna come on board as a paid asset for me?"

She laughed, shook her head, and kept on typing.

Who was he kidding?

But at least he'd asked.

Into the quiet, he surprised her with a single statement, "...thank you, Ada."

She rolled her head over her shoulder. He held her gaze. They both kept right on staring until her computer beeped and she turned back to it, murmuring, "...you're welcome. Try to get some sleep. I'll wake you when the evacuation team arrives."

The absence of sound shimmered around them. Leon stared at the ceiling while she clicked on keys. She could have kept on playing, she had to know he'd keep on chasing, he just...he wasn't interested in a world where she wasn't. He didn't have to _like _the truth of that to admit it to himself.

She was bad for him. He knew it. His fucking bones knew she wasn't a good person.

But was she really a bad one?

He had no way of knowing the answer to that. What he did know was that somehow, she managed to help him circumvent things that might have been catastrophic if she hadn't intervened. As he tugged his communicator out to send an encrypted message to a server that the BSAA would pick up as intel, he wondered what prompted her to tell him the things she did.

It was likely manipulative, it was definitely in her own best interest, but did that really matter when it was for the good of everyone?

Did her motives matter if she was saving lives?

He wasn't sure.

It was a gray area. _Ada _was a gray area. She wasn't a good guy, but honestly...was anyone? He was willing to sacrifice pieces of himself for the greater good...but what was that? What was the greater good here? Protecting people from bioterror?

Was there really a way to do that when the bad guys were so willing to break the rules to get there? Did it make Ada bad that she was willing to do the same? Did it mean he was too? Was he a bad guy doing things for the good of the people?

Or a good guy doing bad things for the right reasons?

Hell, he didn't even know anymore. It was too much deep thinking on too little sleep. His hands scrubbed at his face as he let his eyes close. He wasn't even aware the he'd been drifting into sleep when her voice whispered softly, "...I always knew you couldn't kill me...but I can't figure out why the hell you just won't let me die."

His hand snapped to the pouch on his vest to check for the mutagen, but it was still there. She hadn't robbed him. It was a flicker of something curious to know it.

She was lying beside him on the mattress on her back. They were both in the semi darkness with just the computer to offer flickering shadows over her profile. When he said nothing, Ada added, "...what do you see in me that seems worth saving?"

After a long moment, Leon confessed, "...good. You're not a saint, Ada, but I can't say I am either...I think...maybe we're both just doing the best we can to fight the same fight our own ways...sometimes? Maybe that means we have to cross the wrong lines to do it."

She turned her face toward him. His eyes looked silver in the light from her computer. She shook her head a little and answered, "...what if I asked you to join my side for a little while?"

His mouth twitched as Leon responded, "...like taunting me to be yours?"

She denied that, "...I thought-I thought that's what you wanted. I thought you wanted the game of it. Your face..." Ada trailed off and sighed, "Your face always said you did...which sounds like a rapist but there it is."

Leon inhaled and blew out a hard breath, "...if I didn't...I wouldn't have played."

They both smiled a little sadly. Into the comfortable quiet, Ada finally asked, "...you sure you want to stop?"

His chuckle was gentle somehow, "No. I'm not sure of anything when you're around me, maybe that's part of the reason I seem to crave it like I do."

Surprised at the honesty, she dragged her gaze around that perfect face of his, "...maybe there's a part of me that would miss you if you were gone."

If she'd hugged him, he wouldn't have been more surprised. They both felt the arrow of that confession like she'd written him a note after gym class. Into the now tense moment, pregnant with truth, he confessed, "...maybe that's why I can't let you die...maybe there's a part of me that would miss you too."

Damn.

She'd lost some level of control here. She'd stepped into a murky quagmire of feelings. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Feelings allowed her another playground of control that attraction kept limited, but there was something sticky inside of her own for him.

It wasn't the same as what was written on his face, but it was something. She liked him. He was impossible _not _to like - a perpetual boy scout with a heart of gold and willingness to sacrifice himself for the good of others. He was charming and quirky and cocky and cute. He'd risked himself, more than once, to save her.

She didn't mind liking him, that was harmless, but she didn't want the idea of it being more than that. She didn't want to start depending on him, or expecting anything from him but what she needed. She didn't want to care about him.

And yet?

The idea of another woman in his bed didn't sit well. It was jealousy in her chest at the promise of it. She didn't like that either, but she accepted it the same as the liking. She needed him focused on her to keep the ball rolling toward her end game here.

She didn't need to be bound up in feelings for him, but she liked him. She did. She liked his desperate want of her. She liked his willingness to deal with her and tease her and the moment he'd grabbed her to smear their juices together and he'd told her he'd claimed her.

She'd liked that. She enjoyed a good filthy fuck when it was all about control. She liked the feeling of knowing she had a man by the balls.

She wasn't sure how she felt about knowing she had a man by the feelings.

Surprising her, Leon finally said, "...maybe I can't let go of the idea that you might be a good guy after all."

Ada felt her brows arch, "...do you really believe that?"

He laughed softly and shrugged, "Maybe there's no good or bad. Maybe there's just people making choices...but I think that's how I make peace with it. I have to believe that what you're doing...it's not trying to tear down the world I'm trying to save."

After a heavy silence descended, Ada admonished, "...you are such a boy scout. You should have killed me on that bridge."

His self deprecating chuckle made her smile as he mused, "...probably...but you could have killed me, Ada...right there...and you didn't either."

Without a moments hesitation, Ada confessed, "I know...it was the first time I let my guard down enough to fail a mission. The first and only time...because you were too much of a fucking boy scout for me to finish off...damn you."

He laughed, turning his head toward on the mattress, "...and now?"

"...and now you're too much of an asset. Now I owe you my life. Now? Now I find myself questioning what the hell I'm doing here with you...when I should take the sample and leave you sleeping. I woke you up...because some goddamn part of me wants to see the way you look at me."

They couldn't stop staring until Leon invited, "...so I guess the question is what do _you _want here, Ada? What do you want?"

There weren't enough hours in the day to tell him all the things she wanted. So, she said, "...too much...and I wish it was really that simple."

She gripped a hand into his vest at the shoulder and tugged. He rolled atop him without hesitation. There was something smooth in the kisses and smoother still in the moment.

Feelings were dangerous things, but the risk was how to balance them and not get lost in her own game.

After a long moment of the shifting sounds of their mouths mating, her computer beeped.

The evacuation team was above ground and waiting.

The fingers gripped in his vest to hold him to her pushed him up a little so they could both breathe. The rapid thunder of his heart in his ears punctuated the raspy gasp of her intake of air. After a handful of moments, Ada whispered, "...it's time to go."

Their eyes opened on each other.

Softly, he told her, "...move your hand left six inches and take the mutagen."

Ada licked her lips. She tossed her eyes around his face. He was just waiting for her to help herself to it. Instead? She pushed him up and off her and rolled out from beneath him.

As she moved toward the stairs, she told him, "...there's lockers under the 12th street station in Whispering Pines. Leave the duplicate there and I'll drop the intel on Irving for your asset there as well...consider it a...drop point...locker 33B...it'll use biometrics to access it..see ya round, handsome."

He heard her head up the stairs and stayed on the bed until she'd gone.

His hand touched his vest to find the mutagen still there...but the watch on his wrist for the VR was gone. His mouth twitched. His laugh was amused and annoyed at the same time.

He had no doubt he'd find it, after she'd cloned it, waiting for him in the subway station locker they now shared like a secret between them.

His fingers traced his lips.

Whatever game they were playing - he had a sneaking suspicion somehow they'd both just raised the stakes. There was no getting around it either - before it was done- it was going to be winner take all. It was the first time since they'd started that he began to wonder if he just might be the last man standing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Part Two: The Bitch in the Red Dress**

* * *

**_A chance too late._**

**_An unexpected date._**

**_An admission that damns them both._**

* * *

**Whispering Pines- 2010**

* * *

One week, a simple exchange of intel. One week, a game. He'd find a map with a little scavenger hunt and discover a clue that led him to a hotel where she'd leave a bottle of scotch and a pair of her panties. He'd leave a small tape recorder with a song that reminded him of her - one time it was _She's Like the Wind - _the next it was _Bad Reputation. _Ada laughed and left a kiss on a bottle of Remy Martin and a phone number for a woman who had after market B.O.W.S. being created in a lab in Munich. He left her a location for a fake sale so she could follow the money man back to a buyer and a tape with the song _Rehab._

Ada upped the game and left him a recording of her masturbating with just enough video for him to glimpse a shadow of her breast. Amused, he left her a single red rose. The moment she opened the locker, she froze. Games were one thing, romance was another. She left him a simple one line note - _Be careful what you wish for. _

For three weeks, the box was empty after that. He knew what was happening, she was punishing him for attempting romance. He placed a single photograph of her in black and white on the edge of the Mississippi river and a date with a location. He waited, she never showed, but she left a letter from a head of Tricell that pinpointed a drop of biological agents in Madrid. Apparently, the game was over and it was just business.

Annoyed, he was nearly thick with irritation when a familiar voice called to him.

Claire.

She waved from where she emerged from a cab, laughing. She was on some kind of layover from a conference in Wombat Junction. They had dinner. They had a drink. They had a few laughs.

When Claire placed her hand on his knee under the table, he had a moment to decide how this ended for them. He could take her home, fuck her, and probably find some kind of happiness there. Claire was beautiful, intelligent, good and maternal. She'd want to have his children and love him forever.

To test himself, he caught her chin and leaned down to kiss her. She responded, gripping his jacket to close her eyes and go up on her tiptoes. She smelled good, like lilac and sweet cinnamon buns.

When they parted, she cooed, "...I-I don't do this...but I have a room...upstairs at the Mercer...suite 302b...if you think...?"

She was sweet.

He'd thought that the night they met. He'd wanted her, like a boy wants a girl with boobs and a great ass. He wanted her now, like a man wants a woman who is simple, sweet, and without drama.

He couldn't look at her without seeing Ada's face.

Annoyed, he did something he never had before - he declined. "I can't...I have an early flight to Zurich."

Surprised, Claire nodded rapidly. "Right. Hah. Stupid anyway, right? With what we do? Who has time for romance?"

He drummed his fingers on the table. Claire flushed a little and shrugged, "Some other time, huh?"

He started to change his mind. He thought - what if this was his chance at happiness? What if, somehow, the universe was telling him to forget Ada and take a chance on something real? He'd resented Claire, quietly, for years since she'd left him behind. What if he took that resentment and leveraged it into a lifetime together?

What if he just took that resentment and used it to fuck her bowlegged and leave her like she'd left him once?

The vindictive thought was more Ada than him. It left him a little dizzy where he sat. He wasn't the guy who did that, not to someone he respected. He would never use a woman who was someone he considered a potential friend and discard her like garbage. He wasn't that cold.

Or was he?

Was it possible that he'd somehow inherited a penchant for revenge?

Was he really a good guy under it all?

He started to accept her offer and see where it landed them when the waitress arrived and handed him a note. A simple little slip of paper with a single kiss on it. The second he opened it, he knew he wouldn't be going to bed with Claire.

He rose from the table and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She looked mollified but a little remorseful as he told her, "...some other time...good to see you, Claire."

She waved to him as he left the restaurant. He turned the corner beside it and found himself in an alley. After about four steps into the dark, he knew he wasn't alone. Int the foggy air, he mused, "...you used to be better at tracking someone."

He turned, curled his back, and the leg she threw at him went right over where he'd been. Rising, he caught her throat and shoved her against the wall. Ada's teeth flashed white as her gloved hands gripped into his leather coat. His breath puffed out white and pretty.

Her voice was more of a gasp, "...how was your date?"

His lip curled up in a smirk, "...why?...you jealous?"

She didn't answer. She just told him, "...I brought your damn flower back."

The light from the street lamps reflected in his eyes. He leaned close until their noses brushed and said between his teeth, "Keep it. It's yours."

Softly, she wondered, "And what about you?"

She was something else. He was tired of her games. He was half obsessed with her, half in hatred of her, half in love with her - three halves were impossible, and yet there he was. His left hand gripped a handful of her hair, the other squeezed around her throat. Ada inhaled sharply, eyes flashing alot of white as they rolled a little. Her lips parted and her heart thumped against his chest where he pinned her.

He growled, "...I'm not yours...I never was."

She let their lips brushed and challenged, "...yes, you are...you just don't like it."

His teeth flashed, his hands tightened, and she told him, "...you can kill me, Leon, but it won't make it any less true. Dead, I'll simply haunt you forever."

Angry, he warned her in a hiss between his hardened jaws, "Stop fucking with me, you bitch, or I'll test that goddamn theory. What do you want, Ada? A friend? A playmate? A toy? What is this?"

She brushed their lips again and purred, "...it's fun...don't you agree?"

He shoved her away. She hit the wall and gasped, shaking with some kind of excitement. Leon stalked through the cold and left her there, leaning on the brick and licking her lips like a cat who'd caught the mouse to feast.

Bitch.

He liked the game, in one hand. He enjoyed the cat and mouse, when he was the cat. She was making damn sure he was aware he was the goddamn prey here. He was tired of her jerking him around and riling him up. Why did he let her?

He should go back and get Claire and take her. If he took her, maybe he'd forget Ada and get on with his life. He cut left through the heavy traffic and circled around to the Mercer Hotel. The elevator to the third floor seemed to take forever.

The best way to purge the need for a bitch was to take another. Claire was a good girl, not the type you fucked and forgot about. He was going to take her and keep her, something he never did. He was going to give a real relationship a shot.

He was done chasing red panties all over the world to sniff them like a pathetic fool.

His hand lifted and knocked on the room door. 302b - a number that would change his life. He'd simply offer Claire the world. It was an ugly, fractured, failure of a world, but maybe she'd want it.

Maybe she'd want his world instead of trying to run it.

He heard her coming toward the door to open it.

The one across the hall opened - Suite 302a. He turned his head and the hands in the back of his jacket tugged. He let them pull him into the dark room. The door closed just as Claire's opened and she frowned in confusion into the empty hallway.

In the dark room, Ada pressed him against the wall.

He resisted her, turning his head as she fisted his jacket and rose to kiss him. He shook his head, denying her. Ignoring that, she reached for his jacket and jerked it down his arms. He let that happen. He let it fall to the floor. He let her fingers settle on the front of his shirt and jerk, scattering buttons around the floor like tiny bits of shrapnel.

She put her face against his chest like a cat scent marking, licking down his belly until he grabbed her by the chin and the back of her hair and lifted her up again, arms bunching, head shaking: no.

Ada grabbed for his belt as he held her face. She whipped the leather free and reached for the zipper. He let her, teeth clenched, eyes locked. She slid her hand into his jeans to locate his dick and he grabbed her arms to shove her against the wall. It wasn't easy. She hit hard and gasped, mouth trembling.

She kept one hand in his pants, found him, and fisted the length of him. Her other hand grabbed a handful of his hair so she could lick his throat. He grunted, groaned, and thrust his hips into her hand. Amorous, her mouth nipped and nibbled, her fingers pulled and groped.

He thrust her into the wall again and almost begged her, "...stop. Just...stop."

Her hand on his dick stilled. Her mouth stopped sucking at his throat like a vampire. She turned his face to her to look at him with the handle made of his hair. He gave her a drowning look and urged hoarsely, "...stop."

Softly, Ada wondered, "...you'd rather be with her?"

He thumped her back against the wall again, softer now, and their noses brushed, "...I'd rather be with someone who wants to be with me. I don't want this."

She tilted her head. The heavy, slick, sticky length of him in her fist made a liar out of that. He groaned when she slid her palm up and down to test him. "...stop, Ada...just...I can't do this. I can't do this."

The second time he said it, he sounded more sure. He reached down to take her hand out of his hands and pressed it against her belly. He held her against the wall with a flat palm on her chest.

Surprised, she watched him reject her.

He held her there and took three deep breaths. "...this is done, Ada. Alright? We're done. You can't have me just to keep someone else from it. I'm not a toy."

He let go of her and zipped up his pants. As he knelt to pick up his jacket, she caught his ruined shirt in one hand and the side of his face in the other. Something on her face made him murmur, "...don't."

She turned him toward her. She kissed him, softly, mouth to mouth. It was gentle somehow, sweet even, and she did it again when he warned, "...don't."

Shaking her head, she turned him toward her and confessed, "...you're not a toy...and this is what jealousy looks like. Stop fighting me...and just...what do you want from me?"

Angry, he simply said, "...anything but this."

She kissed him again - smooth and soft. He dropped the coat and turned completely into her. His left hand tunneled softly into her hair at the back of her hair and his other caught her face to turn it up to him. She backed up as he kissed her, hunching just a little until he could catch her and lift her against his front. Her feet dangled as her hands echoed and tunneled into his hair.

It was stupid. It couldn't end well. He knew it was probably another game - one she was playing with his heart. He didn't care. He just wanted her.

She let him lay her back on the bed in the light from the open bathroom. He took her boots and her leggings. He lifted her to take her panties and her arms rose to let him take her dress. The bra released between her breasts and he tugged it up and off her.

Ada kept her arms over her head and let him touch her.

It was almost fascinating. He started at her feet and went up the inside of her left leg. He kissed and touched her, stroking skin and making it sing somehow. She reached for him and he shook his head until she laid her arms back and was still.

Hips and thigh, breasts and belly, arms and throat - he touched her everywhere, tracing the satiny lines of her flesh as if she were a canvas and he the brush that brought her beauty to life. She watched him shed his boots and pants. He rolled her to her belly and worshiped down her back. Her skin turned velvety with need and attention.

The delicate slope of spine, the delicious curve of her ass - he kissed and adored, gliding his hands and lips down and over her until goosebumps pebbled sweetly on her succulent skin. When he guided her to her hands and knees, she let him and the cup of his palms and fingers around her breasts made them peak with pleasure. She leaned back against him, letting his hands cup and mold, letting his mouth leave marks against the swan like arch of her throat.

Her head turned to kiss him over her shoulder. His hand slid down and cupped her groin. He held her to him with a hand gently palming her breasts, and used the other to please her. She was warm and moist when he started, and slick and wet when he simply guided her into the orgasm that waited and eased her over it. Her body tensed, Ada gasped and opened her mouth for his tongue.

She rode his hand over the first wave. Her body dewed and damped around his delving fingers. She felt him shift against her back and he caught the sound of her surrender as his dick replaced his fingers. Her body opened, the walls of her welcoming him with a pulsing embrace. She collapsed back against him, giving her entire weight over. Her arms lifted and one looped at his neck, the other joined his at her groin to stroke her body while he fucked her.

Fuck.

it was the wrong word.

She was afraid it was the wrong action.

Part of her wanted to say - stop. Like he had, like he wanted, stop before it became something it shouldn't. She opened her mouth to say it, and he rolled her to her back. Her thighs opened, her hands gathered his above her head. He took away her temporary confusion and stroked into her until she simply gave up and let him lay claim to her. Before she could stop it, she moaned his name.

Whatever he'd needed, that was it. His rhythm increased, faster, harder. She grabbed for his face and he echoed it. He kissed her, eyes open, watching her fight against her own needs and fail. She whined, something like fear gripped her perfect face, and Leon told her, gruffly, "...yeah...that's me inside you."

Jesus.

She didn't want him there.

The truth of it made her try to fight him off. She lifted like she'd remove him and he pinned her arms down again and took over. Her body bowed, her thighs quivering. Ada shook her head and whined, "...I don't want it."

He dropped his mouth against hers and told her, "...yeah you do...stop lying...and just let go."

Her mouth opened on a soft cry of surrender. She arched her neck and kissed him back. Desperate, they kissed each other like they just might devour the other. He let go of her resisting arms and she grabbed his face to roll him to his back.

She rose above him, riding his body, holding him down to milk his mouth. They fed off each other, wild things without every being sated. He rose, sliding her into his lap, and they clung to each other. His hands held her face, scooping her hair back. She copied him, twisting her fingers into his and making his eyes flare. Angry, she demanded, "...stop."

He tugged her down, nipped her mouth, and returned harshly, "...you first, sweetheart."

In answer, she rode his body so hard it slapped wetly in the dark. They both groaned. They watched each other, the sound of him sinking into her slippery cunt was satisfying somehow - it was audible and fragrant, smelling like sex and surrender. She gasped, jerking on his hair, and kissed him until he turned his head to breathe.

When she slowed, he caught her and rolled her to her back until she was pressed against the headboard and his groin. He pinned her, plowing through her soft cries and into her belly. She whimpered, clutching at him, and he angled her against him, sank into her until she keened and her body resisted him, and he told her, "...goddamnit, Ada...I love you."

She came apart in his arms. Her body bucked, her eyes rolled, and she came around his plunging hips. He rolled her up into his arms and kissed her, holding her against him as he cupped her butt and lifted, lowering her down until his dick twitched, her pussy fisted so hard it left him brainless, and he nearly blew a testicle blowing his load in her. It hurt, erupting hotly from his hammering cock while he cursed, sucking her tongue, and she whined and ground on his lap.

Christ, he thought wildly, he wasn't sure what happened after that. He wasn't sure he cared. She'd offered him the ability to be hers once. If this is what it meant, he thought he might relent and accept.

They desperately clutched each other, shaking, shivering, quaking and quivering and cumming. Sweat slick and gasping, they leaned enough to kiss wetly. Slow and sloppy, their mouths mated while their bodies relaxed. She collapsed around him, clinging.

Damnit.

She'd stepped wrong somewhere here. She was in too far. She'd let jealousy over simple feminine desire make her a fool. It was time to pull back and remember what she wanted here.

Did she want to be some man's doormat?

Did she want to be some man's cum dump?

Did she want to be some man's wife?

She leaned back and he caught her face to hold her. Eyes closed, head back, he was completely at her mercy there in her arms. She caught his face and kissed him. Her eyes stayed on him while she did.

He flushed pink and rolled, putting her beneath him. Sweaty, they slid together as he kissed her. She kept watching him while he did it. She should push him off her and leave. It was the right thing to do.

Her neck arched. His lowered. Eyes open, they watched each other while they kissed.

She should stop this before it became something she couldn't control anymore.

But she liked his face as he told her, earnestly, "...I want you to stay. Stay with me. Stay."

She opened her mouth for his tongue. They kissed until they were breathless. She made no promises. She let him pick her up to carry her into the shower. She let him touch and wash her, stroking and sliding his hands all over her.

She let him curl behind her and hold her in the bed.

Her face stared back from the mirror on the closet. It was her face, it was her body, it wasn't _her. _She wasn't a woman who laid down beneath a man and surrendered. She wasn't a man who fell asleep beside one.

But she fell asleep beside Leon Kennedy.

* * *

She woke to find him between her thighs with his mouth on her. Her hands tunneled into his hair. She came quietly, hips lifting. Her hands gathered him up to kiss him as she crested, his body sliding over hers.

He nestled there and her folds parted to let him inside of her. Her back arched, his mouth settled against her neck. They mated, softly, skin shimmering. Her hands cupped his ass to roll him as he fucked her. His mouth suckled at her breasts and one hand held hers over her head.

She let him, watching him sink completely into her. The somehow glittering length of his dick split her, claimed her, and made her cream. She whimpered, shaking her head. She came while his mouth plucked, while his fingers played against her clitoris, while his hand held her captive.

Her voice was high and she begged, "...you have to stop."

He didn't. He kept on going in and out of her until she couldn't do anything but watch him do it. Her thighs spread, her feet hooked on his calves, her blood turned her skin pink. He lifted his head, her breasts pressed against his chest, and he told her gruffly, "...you're beautiful, Ada...fuck...tell me what you want..."

_Tell him to stop._

"...don't stop."

His hands pushed her knees up, they both watched him go in and out of her, her cunt milking every inch and every stroke. He angled onto his knees, opened her up, and finished. She felt him gush into her, hot and damning. She watched his face while he did, like she was the best thing he'd ever had. She watched him while his dick slid out of her and the evidence of his victory dribbled down her swollen pussy lips.

She wasn't a woman who let a man cum in her.

He gathered her to him. She went, limply, staring into the dark over his shoulder. His hands stroked her back. He nuzzled her face over to kiss her.

She collapsed against him an inch at a time.

He held her until his snoring filled the night.

She'd won. She had him. He was in love with her. She'd played him until she had lassoed him in and owned him - cock, stock, and barrel. It was time to push him where she wanted him. It was time to use him to get what she needed.

It was time to leverage all this love making into her own freedom.

Love making...is that what this was? Was she letting him make love to her? Yes. At least here, now, she could admit it. She was letting him love her. She was, for a handful of moments, forgetting that they weren't some sappy story of a woman and man in the throws of a real affair.

She was letting him live in a fantasy...and she was letting herself float there beside him.

She didn't love him. She couldn't. Not the way he wanted. Not the way he did. She didn't coo and simper. She didn't long for him. She would never feel that way for anyone, ever. She hadn't since the moment it was made clear she was a possession, a weapon, and something that would never be free.

She had his heart in her hands -One squeeze would kill him or revive him. The choice was hers on which.

Part of her mourned the idea that she'd never be the woman who could lay beneath a man and just be complete.

Part of her mourned the idea that he'd never look at her the way he had tonight ever again.

She couldn't do this anymore. She'd been infected by her own game. She cared about him. She cared enough to know it was time to push him away. It was time to draw a line in the sand before he was too far in love to be of use anymore.

She dreaded the idea that she might mourn him if he was dead.

It was time to put distance here to save what she'd spent a life time cultivating.

She fell asleep in his arms with the plan to say goodbye.

* * *

The sun rose in a bloody red on pink and blue. It flickered color over them and made her eyes open. She was curled against his back with her arm around him.

The truth made her grimace.

Apparently, a body still liked to cuddle in sleep.

She rolled away while he slept on his belly and moved to find her clothes. She picked up her dress and rose, turning to slip it on. He caught her, pressing her into the wall. Before she could stop it, she dropped the dress and caught his face to kiss him back.

She warned, breathless, "...I have to go, Leon..let me go..."

He simply lifted her leg to take her. She arched, body falling apart. He lifted her around his front and took her back to bed. If she'd separated from her body to watch it, she'd have floated above shaking her head.

Her body liked his, there was no denying that. They coupled wetly on the bed in the coming dawn. He left her pulsing and weak beneath him as he came in her. She watched the cum drip onto the bed beneath them with a shivering sense of loss.

This was why she didn't allow a man to control her. It was like being addicted to something. She didn't want to be addicted to sex without boundaries.

She shoved him off her and crawled off the bed.

He caught her foot and she hit the floor with an oof. Annoyed, she swatted at his hands as he gathered her up and pinned her to the floor. Her legs just...opened...and let him between. The anger was sharp and quick as she commanded, "...get off me."

Amused, his eyes twinkled, "...you have your legs wrapped around me."

Right.

She opened those and shoved on his chest. "...damnit, Leon, this is done."

He caught her face and turned her to his mouth. She kissed him back and then cursed, shoving him off her. He let her go, listening to her mutter and curse. She told him, flushed and angry, "...don't touch me again."

His brows arched. He sat up, dick glistening with her juices on it. She pointed and commanded, "Cover up."

His eyes sparkled, "Why?"

Huffing, she tossed his jacket on him where he sat. "I was wrong. Last night...I was wrong. From now on, this is business."

He laughed, shrugged, "...sure."

Ada jerked her dress on and grabbed her shoes. "I mean it. I'm not a woman who has affairs, Leon. Ever. I don't want that. No more games."

He shrugged, looking soft and used, "...ok. No more games...where you going?"

"Away." She grabbed the handle for the room door, "...I'll contact you soon."

His hair was disheleved and his face covered in her lipstick. He winked at her and responded, "...see ya later, princess. Ada?"

"...what?"

"...I love you."

She pointed at him and spat, "Shut up...idiot."

Ada slammed the door. She hurried toward the elevator, shaking her head. This was still salvageable. She could still come out of this without looking like a fool. She was able to rescue this...somehow.

It was the first time in her life she'd over played her hand and lost.


	13. Chapter 13

**Part Three: The Legend of Leon Kennedy**

* * *

**_A painful truth._**

**_A perfect poison._**

**_A rending heart without a hope of healing._**

* * *

**Syberia- 2010**

* * *

There wasn't much left of what had once been the last station in a wasteland of white.

A flashy, splashy, very pointed, very AMERICAN missile had made sure that what had once been Syberian Outpost #9, was now nothing more than a wide spot in the middle of a blackened road.

Curiously, she studied what was still smoldering. It might have been a pretty little snow crusted haven once, in all truth, although it was nothing more than a hot mess now. The stomping ground of the former most powerful man in the Western world was utter desolation. It was derelict, offering just an out cropping of cave among the ruins.

It never failed to surprise her how American's were so easily led to destroy their own lynch pins. She wondered what manner of fuck up resulted in the need to nuke an entire populace. Likely, Ada mused as she gingerly eased down the ruined edge of the stone wall into the water, it was some man's mistake. Scientists playing god in labs creating viruses to perfect the ultimate soldier…

She laughed lightly, slipping on her respirator as she zipped into her wetsuit, "...dicks in the wind…the lot of them."

With a little chuckle, she dove beneath the churning water.

It wasn't hard to find what was left of the lab beneath the churning water, after all, her contact had been pretty clear on the coordinates.

Back packing through the Chaos Crags, Ada had found herself side by side with a former BSAA agent named Jessica Sherawat. The woman had been ready to share intel. They'd traded what they could and left with their secrets still in tact.

Something was here, that much was clear. After digging through the disjointed information Sherawat had fed her, Ada had found enough to pinpoint this hole in the ground as a site for something worth stealing. The problem was, someone had known that and bombed it into oblivion trying to hide it.

So here she was, raiding around in what was left of the lair of a likely mad scientist, looking for what?

That part was unclear.

But there was _something_ down here worth finding.

She muttered, "What am I...a stupid tomb raider?"

The door in front of her was half under water. It was ringed in snakes and gold. It was ostentatious and enormous and spoke volumes about the man whose kin had been buried here. She paused, her radars started spinning, and she used her waterproof camera to snap a picture of the emblem. It was a crest. Whose? She'd damn well find out.

The wet suit kept her legs dry as she eased through the waist high water, moving into the enormous open space.

Something besides the bomb that had struck had dealt damage here. There was evidence of a battle against god knows what kind of creature. Pieces of blubbery flesh lay scattered over the slimy ground like obscene confetti.

A whale?

Inside a lab?

Should she really be surprised? She'd seen sharks and any number of other nasties being used like pets with perverted play parts all over the world. Why should a killer whale, that literally killed, be shocking?

Amused, she eased into the inner sanctum of the destroyed lab. There was little to pick from among the mess left behind. There wasn't much of value. A single ring floated in murky water – intricate and heavy. She palmed it, eyeing the matching snake design that had been upon the door.

She pocketed the ring and eased forward. A single sarcophagus remained untouched in the middle of the water laden dais. A strange thing to find inside of a laboratory, but again...these were people who made sure to put their labs under water. Moving toward it, Ada studied it where the lid was ajar, revealing the rotting corpse within it.

Ada eased the lid open, grunting with the effort of it. It hit the water logged stone with a splash and crash of noise. The body within the coffin was long dead.

The thing attached to the wall of the coffin wasn't. It was gross. It was covered in slime and smelled vaguely of mold and was pulsing. It was about the size of a soccer ball. She poked it with her pistol to see if it cracked or leaked or burst like a pustule. It didn't.

What had Sherawat said? The pods had hatched here and released clones or something; mutated, deformed, monstrous clones. It was best to destroy it.

She aimed the pistol at it.

But it wasn't hers that went off.

Another one above her echoed in the small chamber.

It was luck that saved her life.

Ada ducked and the bullet struck the stone sarcophagi an inch from her face and a voice called, "I don't care for killing, but I'm not opposed to maiming. Drop the gun and step away from the pod."

Curious, Ada called back, "You know what this thing is? You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to let you run off with it while I sit here huddling in the water."

With a sigh, the voice returned, "Not a request. A command. Just do what I ask, please, and let's not make this harder than it needs to be."

Ada considered the alternative and mused, "This place is a shambles. Nothing here worth dying for. Do yourself a solid and just run. I'd hate to have to kill you."

There was a splash of sound and Ada looked up at the ten foot tall vision that rounded the sarcophagus to look down at her. "You're making this harder than I like," Said the glamazon with the raven hair and flawless dark skin. And her face was bored, "I like tough women. I'd hate to kill you over nothing."

"Well…that makes two of us then." Ada rose, watching her, "Shall we?"

The glamazon fought like a mad woman. She was fast and efficient. She was effortless. She wasn't better, but she was luckier.

A slip in the water on a slimy stone sent Ada to her ass in the waist deep wet. A fist in the face put her down like a kick from a donkey. She came to lying on slick ground. Honestly, she should've been dead, but the woman in the vest hadn't wanted to kill her. She'd beat the piss out of her and left her alive; she could've have let her drown and didn't.

Curious.

But she'd also escaped with the pod.

The even more curious thing? She'd left a little note with a kiss and a butterfly and a single set of words: Red River Mental Hospital. That was Ada's symbol. It was _hers. _Come to think of it...the woman...she'd moved like her. She'd talked like her.

She'd left a clue like her.

Annoyed, Ada grunted, "...fucking clone."

It wasn't often a bad guy pointed the way to their next destination. But something about the woman had Ada thinking, there wasn't anyone else on Earth quite like her. Well, actually, there _was. Had she just been bested by her own clone?_

The face was wrong, but maybe that was part of it. Maybe that bitch had needed that pod to steal her face too. Maybe she was on her way to make sure Ada Wong became a figment of her own imagination.

Why would she want to assume someone else's identity? What game was this?

Ada gathered what she could and made her way up from the lab. She took the snow cat back across the wide open white wonderland and emerged into the abandoned out post that waited. While her data uploaded and her server processed looking for links, Ada washed off the filthy grime and treated her aching mouth. Apparently, it had been two hits - mouth and eye.

She had a shiner in shimmering black and blue starting to swell. Annoyed, Ada treated it with poultice while the computer beeped behind her. She heard a rustling toward the front of the outpost and paused. Her hand was on her gun and the barrel aimed when a voice called, "Ease down. It's just me."

She _hated _that she knew who it was. She hated even worse that something in her belly tightened with emotion. "Nothing to find here, Agent Kennedy. That carcass was picked clean."

Leon appeared in the doorway in a heavy black parka and a thick set of boots that somehow made her warm just looking at him. His hair was hidden under a sock hot in dark blue. As he moved toward her, he remarked, "I know. I was there two days ago."

Damn him.

She gave him a withering look as he crossed the mostly empty chamber and stopped to scan her data on her computer. "...you didn't feel the need to let me know so I didn't waste my time there?"

He retorted, "You didn't feel the need to let me know you were trying to steal sensitive data from a top secret Syberian outpost? You realize this is under layers of security that even the President doesn't touch, right?"

Ada gave him a droll look. "Pillow talk is better than hacking when you want a man to squeal." She turned away from him to inspect the computer. It was linking the symbols to various mausoleums around the world. Where had she seen it before?!

His gloved hand curled around her chin and lifted it. Surprised, she turned her gaze to him as he murmured, "...somebody did a number on you."

She pulled her chin away and turned to move across the room to pick up her sweater. Ada rolled her eyes and winced at the pain it caused, "I'm fine. I've had worse, trust me. It was...it was the damnedest thing anyway."

"...what?"

"She...acted like _me." _Ada shook her head, "She didn't look like me, but she acted like me."

Leon tilted his head, "...cold and sexually repressed?"

She gave him a cool glare.

He tried again, "...humor challenged?"

Ada pursed her lips.

"...like she has constant PMS?"

Ada turned her back on him with a heavy sigh, "What do you know, Leon? Stop flirting."

He laughed and leaned on the wall, "Was I? I think it was called yanking your chain."

"...well stop yanking it."

"Why? You wanna yank mine instead?"

She couldn't stop it. She tried, she really did, but the yip of a laugh escaped anyway. Annoyed, Ada turned around to face him. "...you think you're charming."

"...it's crossed my mind."

Ada dropped the sweater and lifted her hand. She beckoned him forward with a curl of her finger. "Ok, Mr. Kennedy, come over here and let me pull it. Right here, right now. Forget the mystery of someone who is me but isn't me...I wanna yank your chain."

His teeth flashed in a smile. She batted her lashes like a vixen. Amused, he came toward her. She laughed, unable to stop it, and put a hand on his chest as he backed her into the wall, "...for god's sake, Leon..I was calling your bluff."

"Yeah? Who said I was bluffing?"

He lowered his mouth and she covered it with her hand, informing him, "I was. Go find some answers. I don't have time to play with you right now."

He glanced behind them at her computer as her hand slid away and told her, "...you got eighteen minutes before that computer finishes reconstructing data. You wanna stand here...or make use of that time?"

Softly, she wrapped her gloved fingers around his throat and warned him, "...you don't want to go down this road with me, Leon. It doesn't end where you think it does."

He leaned down. Their lips brushed. She tilted her head back to let him glide his lips down the column of her throat as he rumbled, "...I'll take my chances."

With a soft sound, Ada leaned completely against the wall. The hand around his throat tightened, the other slid up to tug the hat from his head and tunnel in his hair. She turned her face to his seeking mouth. A good kiss, slick and sucking, his hands cupping around the curve of her ass to lift her left leg around his flank and let him closer. It was warm in her hideout, offering the caress of the cold jacket against her skin as he pressed close.

Breath hot, she commanded, "...get rid of this fucking coat."

His muffled laugh was swallowed by her mouth.

The computer hummed while her hands shifted against him to tug on the zipper. The tactical vest against her naked belly was scratchy and rough as she freed his torso from the bonds of his thick coat. His arms wiggled to let it drop to the floor. They surged together with it gone, mouths and hands and heads moving.

He caught the hook of her bra between her breasts and tugged. His hands cupped and shaped, pinning her against the wall to mold her to his palms. Hers slid into his fatigues and gripped his ass, tugging him against her. The slick leggings she wore whispered as her pelvis tilted to the thrust of him against her.

The computer beeped and printed marking the sound of their panting and heavy petting. He gripped a handful of her hair, cupped her throat with the other, and tilted her face up with his thumb, voice rich and low, "...you miss me, Ada?"

She laughed and turned to plumb his mouth with her tongue.

Her computer pinged prettily and opened the transmission to fill the thick air with a mechanical voice, "...incoming message - 3rd I.D. in play. Dispose of double O's seven accordingly. Test subjects acquired."

The computer fell silent.

Ada realized he'd stopped kissing her. He pinned her to the wall with that hand on her throat and tilted her face back now with a different intent, "...they send you to kill me, Ada?"

Her eyes opened. She met his. Both sets were heavy. Their panting mingled as she confessed, without compunction, "Of course..._twice_...and yet you're still here."

His hand tightened and her eyes flared as he gruffed, "...I should kill you...whose side are you on here?"

She grabbed his ass and jerked him against her. He went, dropping his mouth to wetly kiss hers as she growled, "...mine, you fool. You know that...you've always known. Kill me...I _dare _you."

He made her gasp as his hand jerked on her hair, "...I can't...I fucking love you, Ada."

Damnit. Why did he keep saying it like that?! What did he think happened here?

She dug her finger nails into his ass and hissed, "...what does that even _mean, _Leon?! You don't know a damn thing about me. It's not love...it's just obsession."

His hands slid down and grabbed for the tongue of her belt as he grunted, "...is it? What's your excuse?"

Her hand slid around his hip and fisted the sticky length of his erection as she purred, "...I'm obsessed with winning...every time you cum in me...I _win..."_

He laughed. He copied her and palmed her groin. She gasped, jerking against his surging fingers, "Yeah? I had you under me, Ada. I saw your face...that's not winning...that? That was _surrender_."

They stopped talking.

She swallowed his tongue. They coupled madly while the proof of his assassination echoed on her computer screen. They wanted him dead. Why? He had the power now, as the man in the ear of the President Elect Benford, to stop the world of bioterror with a single stroke. If Benford found his way to the platform of truth he'd won the presidency on, he'd bring the world together against the global threat of B.O.W.S.

The civil uprising in Edonia and the Eastern Slav Republic was being kept as closely under wraps as possible, but if the world were to be made aware of the black market trade of things that had once been nothing more than story book horrors - born and bred in their own backyards no less- they'd band together to make sure they took down the money behind the madness. Umbrellas collapse had crippled the bioterror game for almost a decade. It was still finding it's why back from the dark.

What would happen if Leon convinced Benford to expose the ugly bitch in all her murderous glory?

They wanted him dead.

They wanted his blood.

They wanted his body to play god with what was still inside of him from Spain.

They wanted her to sell him to them to buy her own freedom.

The first time, she'd burned her bridge to Wesker denying it. This time, she'd likely bury herself in the right circles buying his freedom. He was crippling her by simply existing. He was both her greatest weapon and her greatest weakness.

She wasn't sure how to extract herself from him. They were so tightly entangled now that it might bleed her to try. She knew the second she rejected the offer, they'd scout another agent to try. She had to protect him. She'd been protecting him against his knowledge for years.

Keeping him alive was a full time job.

She should turn him aside and cultivate a new asset.

She should let him fight his own battles and bury himself.

Instead, she let him lift her against the wall and bury himself in _her._

* * *

**London - 2011**

* * *

The echo of the gun sent swirls of smoke up into the ink dark sky.

Ada watched the body drop with a thump and a gush of blood on the wet pavement.

She'd avoided him since that night. She'd made sure of it. She stalked him like a shadow, shielding him when he stupidly walked into danger like a hero, and nearly met his end. When he slept, she slaughtered those who rose like leviathans above him to end his life.

He was always leaving things in the little locker for her. She left only intel for him. She never, ever met him face to face. It was easier that way, safer, and more conducive to keeping him alive. She'd gotten too close, she'd wanted him too much, she'd let her feelings confuse what she was here to do.

He was an means to an end, not a man, not a lover, not a thing for her to hold and have.

Fucking him had nearly fucked her too.

Her body ached curiously at the loss of him. She wasn't stupid, she knew at the end of the day she was female, she had a range of feelings that were tied to the sex that was more than just bodies. She'd enjoyed, somehow, the closeness of him when he'd touched her. He'd looked at her as one might a thing that kept them alive in a storm or flood. He talked about love.

She believed him.

He loved the _idea _of her.

If he knew who she really was, his love would curdle in his mouth like spoiled milk.

He stepped into the hotel where he was staying and was gone as the wind and the rain whipped her coat around her legs. He'd had no idea that on the street corner, a man with a pistol had been about to put one in the back of his skull and leave his brains splattered on the wall behind him. A waste of such a beautiful face.

After a moment, she opened her phone and dialed.

He answered, sounding tired, "Kennedy."

"...you should be more careful who you take to dinner."

Again, he'd been out with the redhead. She'd watched them, quietly sitting in the shadowed booth across the way to observe their laughter. Redfield had touched his forearm. She'd tossed her hair and touched her forehead to his shoulder. She'd shared her beer with him and rolled her lips with a sparkling set of blue eyes.

Flirting.

He winked. He preened. He let her put her hand on his knee. He walked her under the umbrella she'd brought to her hotel. He'd let her rise up to kiss him beneath the same umbrella before they'd said goodbye.

Ada watched his shake his head at something the redhead offered - to bed him again?

Why was he still resisting?

Claire, laughing, had winked and gone inside with her umbrella.

He'd walked out to the road to get a cab. The man in the trench coat had followed in another. Ada had settled the helmet on her head and joined the caravan on the slick red Honda Shadow. A bike in the rain seemed risky, but she could have driven it on a snowy mountain top in the middle of a blizzard. Training made you able to drive anything, anywhere.

She carelessly toed the body of the dead man at her feet into a pile of newspapers as he answered, "...not sure why you care...or how it's any of your business. What do you want, Ada?"

She told him, softly, "Look out your window."

She heard the rustle and saw the light as he drew back the curtains on his hotel room. His gaze zeroed down on her in the rain and the dark like she'd waved a white flag. She toed the body again and tilted her head beneath her umbrella, "...stop being stupid. You're risking that girl every time you see her. You should know by now that there's no normal life for you. Not with a girl like that. Say goodbye, buy a hooker, and forget about romance."

He held her gaze through the window, "...nobody asked you to protect me...and next time I want advice on my love life, I'll shoot a red bitch signal into the sky to summon you."

Her mouth twitched on a smile, "...don't be bitter, Leon, it's ugly on you. I like the angry thing though...suits you. You miss me?"

His laugh was harsh, "Like a case of crabs that never stops itching."

She watched his mouth turn up in the window. The words were snarky, the face was gentle somehow, and they both stood in silence for a moment, watching the other. After a moment, she confessed, "...shame...I missed you...Good to see you, Leon...next time don't be so fucking careless."

She hung up. He quirked his mouth in the window and finally saluted her with a finger to his brow. She inclined her head, toed the body again to imply he should clean it up, and turned away into the rain. They both knew she'd keep on watching his back.

He watched hers disappear into the darkness.

He wasn't even bitter she'd left. He'd expected her to. He was a little salty that she'd hidden herself so well since she had. Almost a year now, with him expecting her to pop up and never even smelling her perfume.

She was good at hiding. If he wanted, he could hunt her, but he didn't want that either. He wanted her...to what? Well, that was easy too, he wanted her to want _him. _Chasing her was done...he wanted her to chase after him instead.

Turns out? She'd been there all along.

He lifted his phone and texted the number she'd called from, just a single message: _I'll stop seeing her, but only if you take her place._

It was a handful of moments before she answered. _We both know it's been her taking mine all along. I have things to tell you. Start looking into the mess in the ESR. Stay on your guard until I see you again. In the mean time...look in your closet._

He frowned, curious how she'd gotten into a government protected suite. Who was he kidding? It was probably cake for her. He turned toward the ornate wardrobe and tugged the doors.

A pair of red handcuffs waited on a hanger inside. She'd left them, and taken his black leather jacket. Mouth twitching with humor, he lifted his phone and told her - _What's the game here?_

Her answer made him laugh - _You wear those, I wear the other. Fair trade._

He sighed, shaking his head. Maybe it was a game. Maybe it was her controlling him, but he knew she was right about one thing - he couldn't risk Claire's safety if he was under a kill order. He had to stop seeing her.

Without even trying, Ada had managed to evict her once more from his life.

Her final text made him lean on the wall with those cuffs dangling from his finger and a smile on his lips - _Only way you get me...is in cuffs. See ya round, handsome._

He was pretty sure she was confused about who was supposed to be wearing them. He was also pretty sure he'd slap them on his wrists if it meant he'd get to see her again. He went to sleep imaging his hands behind his back and her on his lap in nothing but that leather jacket.

It was the worst night of sleep he'd had in a long, long time and the first time he'd soaked his sheets since he was a teenager.


	14. Chapter 14

**Part Three: The Legend of Leon Kennedy**

* * *

**_A dangerous game._**

**_A delicious regret._**

**_A final farewell to stop a madman._**

* * *

**Monte Carlo- 2011**

* * *

The heavy ping of a slot machine accompanied the cards that he tossed down on the table. Around him, the high rollers that had just lost a fortune let out groans of distress. One of them, a heavy set man with a mustache worthy of Sam Elliot, lamented, "...pretty American _fool!"_

His Italian accent was rich and rolling. His cigar plumbed smoke into the already stifling thick air. The angry German baron known as Von Muller cursed in a string of gutteral filth that might have stung the ears of a lesser man. The rest of the men glared uselessly as he rose, the pretty waitress beside him offering him a victory shot of Patron.

He took it, winking at the sour expressions of those who hunched in defeat. "Gentleman...a pleasure."

As he wandered away from the table, the voice in his ear teased, "...you could have lost, you know. You just needed Von Muller to be aware of you."

"...I know,"Leon turned through the enormous lobby of massive casino, headed for the elevator and the room he had on the top floor, "But losing is boring. This way, he already thinks I'm a douchebag. It'll get him bent on revenge. He'll invite me to the VIP suite without having to grease any palms or rub any elbows."

Hunnigan came back to him, amused, "I hate how good you are at...everything."

Leon laughed, the elevator doors whooshed shut to show him his reflection in the gold mirrored surface, "I'll take that as a compliment. Get some coffee, kid, it's gonna be a long night."

"...as long as it ends with information on the missing Mrs. Muller...I think we're gonna consider it a win. Be good until I get back."

"I'm always good...at everything."

His quip made Hunnigan chuckled before she went radio silent.

His reflection was handsome - but that was a given. It was James Bond meets James Dean - chic and stylish, rebellious and badass. He'd through on a bulletproof vest beneath the expensive Prada shirt in screaming vermilion. The black tie and silk vest over it said he was too busy looking good to worry about looking for answers.

The truth was he'd been digging for information on Anita Muller for weeks now. The speculation said she'd married the Baron von Muller and given birth to a son. The early talk was that the son hadn't been his. The timing, the tone of the messages they'd uncovered, the whisper of information from the right people said that shortly before he'd gone off deep end in the early nineties, Albert Wesker had engaged in a flirtation with a completely unattainable attache to Germany. She'd left the country and married a Baron, but she'd been brewing a bastard in her belly before the wedding.

That bastard was heir to very specific blood type. Reports said the Baron had divorced Anita shortly after her duplicitous nature had been relieved. She'd fled somewhere inland and possibly left the country, but the good Baron was still paying alimony. So they needed the address, and they needed it before certain other players in the game lucked into the same intel. Wesker's bastard might have what they needed to draw antibodies for a variant of the T-Virus they'd found creeping up in Edonia and the ESR. Someone was playing god again - warping the already perverse work of a madman and making it unstoppable.

Diplomatic immunity protected Von Muller from being picked up and interrogated, so it was better to play the spy game and win the answers over a rousing game of poker. He'd lose the hand this time to be sure it earned the other man's trust. If he won too much, they'd turn against him and Leon would be black balled before he'd even begun. He just wanted to get in, the rest would fall into place naturally.

After about ten minutes in his suite, the knock on his door was the invite he was waiting for.

He followed a pretty blonde down a private elevator to a room turned into a ridiculous blend of money and prestige. The walls were woven with gold, the floor marked into veins of silver, and the room decorated with antiques worth hundreds of thousand of dollars. It was ostentatious old money at it's finest. He was sitting at a table with some of the most powerful, wealthiest men in the world.

All of them had names that dated back to the dawn of time. They were lineage children, drawing from a line that could be traced to kings and sultans. Leon was a former cop with a legacy of walking the thin blue line. He wasn't entirely sure where his life had turned to put him sharing scotch with kings.

He'd just won a hand, and lost a hand, and was working on throwing a third when the doors opened and a voice called, lilting, "Gentleman! I have brought us the entertainment!"

The heads turned, his included, and his smile stayed locked in place but it wanted to wilt.

Ada.

Ada in a gown that was red and sexy, oriental piping in black and beautiful white cranes stenciled up the blood red silk. The tops of her thigh highs winked as she walked, the slit so high it hit the edge of her hip and suggested garters in ebony and smoky stalkings. The ice pick heels put her inches taller than the man who escorted her. She dangled on his arm, smiling beguilingly.

Beside him, the sultan of somewhere nudged Leon's elbow and leered, "She is exotic, yes? Like a beautiful butterfly."

She was. She was a red butterfly, a thing that had spent a lifetime flapping her wings to change the winds that circled around him. She'd nestled once, at the edge of his ear, whispering as she waited to fly away again. He'd touched her, stroking a finger down the delicate silk of her wings, watching her preen and swirl in a beautiful and enchanting dance. He knew, as he'd always known, if he caught her...if he closed his hand around her...he'd crush her and she would _never_ fly again.

Part of him wanted to catch her just to see what it felt like to finally hold onto to her.

Instead, Leon turned back to the game and invited, "Shall we?"

They played, the drinks flowed, the games were won and lost. Ada circled the table with another beautiful woman, this one blonde and full of touches and kisses for the those who tossed money around without concern. She placed her ample breasts on his shoulder to coo in his ear, she licked it and made the men at the table laugh. The blonde put herself in his lap to rub her toned butt against his groin.

Amused, he heard one of the men call, "He _is _prettier than the rest of us, yes? Perhaps we should make him less so."

Great.

_Great._

All he needed was angry men with too much money and power hating him for being good looking. A little concerned, Leon told the blonde, "Do us both a favor honey, go find a man with more than looks. After tonight, that's all I'll have left."

The laughter tinkled around the table. The blonde pouted but made her way to the lap of a fat sultan who'd won the last three rounds.

And then something happened Leon hadn't expected - Von Muller leaned over and whispered into his ear, "I have brought my beautiful butterfly for you...perhaps we should adjourn...and you will show me how pretty you are beneath your wings as well."

Damn.

That explained the divorce. Von Muller was gay. Likely Anita Muller had known it when they'd wed, but apparently when it was socially acceptable for him to drop the act, he'd kicked the wife and the kid to the curb. The best way to get him to talk wasn't losing money to him, it was letting him think he had a shot of getting laid.

Amused again, Leon shrugged, "Your game, Baron. Where should we play?"

Ten minutes later, Leon was sitting in a chair in a beautiful penthouse with the warm breeze tickling his face. The Baron, thank god, seemed content to sit in a chair and watch as Ada danced for him. It was always curious how many powerful people had a secret streak of wanting those around them to dance like puppets on strings.

Ada shed her dress to be in a beautiful corset in black and red and a matching garter belt. In the blood red heels, she straddled Leon, ripping open his jacket to pretend to play with his nipples. Her nails clicked at the Kevlar beneath the shirt and she put her lips to his ear, whispering, "...fool. If he has you strip, he'll know what you are."

Leon started to speak and she hissed, "...when will you learn? Say nothing, you fool."

She rose and before he could blink, she backhanded him. The hit made his ear ring. He grunted and let her jerks his arm behind him to bind him to the chair. The flair of amusement was on her face before she turned it off and remarked, "...he is a bad boy, Baron. How shall I punish him?"

Von Muller shifted in his seat, eyes flashing happily. "Make him less pretty."

Ada's eyes flashed as she turned back to Leon. Her voice was laced with heavy humor as she cooed, "...less pretty...such a waste."

She slapped him again, open handed, and it stung. Leon laughed, tone rich with sarcasm, "...that it? You can hit harder than that, honey. Come on, play rough and show me whatcha got."

Ada grabbed a handful of his hair, jerked his head back, and bit into his neck like a fucking vampire. It hurt. There was no pleasure in it. It made him grunt and curse loudly. Von Muller cooed and preened, Ada left a hickey on him like a teenager under the bleachers, and she hissed in his ear, "...the lining of my bra is removable. Use your teeth..."

Without a word, he buried his face in her cleavage. Admittedly, it was a nice mix of business and pleasure. He licked unnecessarily, made her laugh and smack the back of his head, and his teeth gripped the blow-dart she'd bound to her corset.

He tugged it free, she tilted her head to the side, and he spit it across the room. It was teamwork in a way that was quite well done. Von Muller made a garbled gasp, and he fell to the floor with his dick in his hand.

Ada, still on his lap, mused to Leon, "...excellent aim...and yet I would imagine you still manage to miss the toilet."

"...no comment."

She rose, pressed a delicate kiss to the hickey she'd left and made him smile, and left him bound to the chair.

Surprised, he watched her loop her dress back on and turn toward the man asleep on the floor. "Really?"

Ada said nothing, shifting to take a small disk from the inner breast pocket of the fat man's suit. She hurried to the laptop on his desk and put the disk in. In the chair, Leon sighed, "...come on. Be fair here. Let me loose."

"Shut up." Ada tapped keys, scanning data. She shook her head, "...damnit. _Damnit. _I have to get it back."

"What? Get what?"

Ada shook her head again, "I won't share. I can't. I'm..." She heard the voices outside the door. "...damnit. They'll be here in a moment..."

She glanced at the man on the ground, "This doesn't end well."

She ran for the balcony, throwing open the doors. He watched her pull something else out of that corset and realized it was a tightly wound repel line. Amused, he wondered, "You ever just walk out the front door?"

"...only when I'm with you." She hooked one end of the bra underwire on the gargoyle beside her and the door was suddenly being pounded on. German voices called through to check on the Baron.

She hesitated before she leaped over the balcony to plummet safely down. If she left him, he'd be killed or taken into their custody. She looked back at him. He shook his head and urged, "...don't be stupid here, Ada. Let me go."

The door wiggled on the hinges.

The repel line wouldn't hold them both.

With a touch of sympathy, she told him, "...blame me. They won't hurt you since you're bound to the chair and look beat up. Blame me...I'll make it up to you...I promise."

"_ADA!"_

She went over, the door burst open, and men rushed in.

* * *

He found himself dozing off on the car ride back to the plane that would take him home.

Bitch - she'd taken the intel, bit him, hit him, bound him, and left him. He was going to repay the favor if he saw her again. She was such a selfish woman. They might have _killed_ him.

They hadn't and Von Muller had been pathetically grateful for his discretion regarding their playtime, so he'd happily divulged the address for his ex-wife but it could have easily gone the other way. What had been on that damn disk? What was she hiding?

He knew she had some agenda that was probably going to fuck his world up. He knew that. He knew she was shadowing him, probably right now, to both protect and usurp his power plays before he made them. He hated her. He was going to enjoy besting her by beating her to Anita Muller.

The driver of the limo he was in edged to the side of the road. Curious, Leon called, "What's the problem?"

The driver alighted from the car and Leon listened to the crunch of gravel as he rounded toward the back. Gun in hand, Leon turned to sight down his arm as the door was opened. He fired, the gun was knocked free toward the ceiling of the vehicle and the shot went wild, and he struggled with his attacker in the dark. After a handful of moments with him trying to kill them, they finally used the confines of the limo to pin him to the seat and straddle him.

The second he stopped fighting, he smelled her.

Annoyed, he snapped, "Bitch! I should k-"

Her mouth settled, tongue sweeping. The limo driver cap was swept off her head by his hands. He tunneled his fingers and tugged her down, feasting on her mouth.

With a gasp, they parted, and she told him, "...I had to. They would have killed us both. I knew you'd be safe. I knew they wouldn't kill you. It was the only way I could protect you."

His hands jerked on her hair. Ada gasped, his fingers on his belly and headed toward his zipper, "...does it help to hurt me? Does it change anything?"

He jerked again. She moaned. His teeth flashed in a sneer, "...stop fucking with me, Ada. _Goddamnit._..what do you want here!?"

His zipper was loud. She licked his mouth, "...to fuck with you. Shut up, Leon...just-"

His hands gripped the dress she wore. He jerked it up, ripping the fabric with a cry of cloth. He fisted the front of her panties and jerked. The all but fell apart in his hand. She pulled him from his pants and he grunted, "...I hate you."

"...a short fall from love to hate..." Her mouth sucked at his and she purred, "...I like the hate better."

Her body lifted and took. She sunk down and he fisted her hair to arch her back and grip her hip. He fucked her so hard it echoed in the car. She mewed, surrendering even as she stole something from him. This is what it meant to be hers, he thought wildly, seeing himself fuck her while she keened like he'd floated above them to the roof of the vehicle to watch.

He was a guy who fucked a woman who'd just left him for dead.

Ridiculous.

Stupid.

He'd always been stupid for her.

What did he think? That she would choose his safety over her own? Did he think she'd risk herself for him? She'd never make that mistake. She'd never let him close enough for that to happen. She preferred love over hate. She was never going to be his.

She was a butterfly - all she did was fly away.

It was the first time since he'd met her that he knew what that meant. Butterflies weren't meant to be held. They weren't meant to be something you tried to pet or keep. He was chasing her like a boy with a net, hoping against hope, to posses her. She wasn't something you hung on a peg on a wall to look at forever.

She was better off beautiful and free.

His hands stopped grabbing and groping. His fingers stopped bruising her beautiful flesh. He softened, slinging her body forward to hold her. She went, collapsing around him. They mated, merging in the quiet car now in a way that made her heart race.

What was this?

What had changed?

His hands cupped her face, he drew her down, and the kiss was smooth and supple. Ada felt herself melt a little, clinging in that way she hated, and Leon stopped moving to hold her. She froze, amorous body panting but still with him inside of her.

Ada felt her heart shiver as he simply held her there against him. She put her mouth delicately against the hickey she'd left and kissed. His cupping hands turned her face to kiss her.

Smooth.

Somehow smooth and soft in the throws of a filthy fuck in the back of a car. It should have been tawdry, with his dick poked out of his pants her and her panties ripped. It should have been alot of things.

What it was was _dangerous._

Into the quiet, he murmured, "...you feel the need to fuck me for an apology, Ada?"

Ada said nothing, hating the heaviness in her chest. She didn't kiss him back, but she didn't pull away when he kissed her again either. Her panting was loud somehow.

He spoke again, tender in a way that made her panic inside, "...why are you here, Ada? Why not just take what you wanted and never look back?"

She back from him. Her hands caught his wrists. She pinned them above his head on the seat and smacked them into the leather. "...stop it."

She hated the softness on him as he looked at her. Ada shook her head, "...you idiot. Why couldn't you just stop?"

Leon flicked his eyes around her face, "...stop what?"

Ada looked at him in such a way that he felt a lance of something in his chest he didn't like as she confessed, "...stop mattering. You weren't supposed to _matter._ It was a game, Leon...it ways always a game...you made it something else..."

Her hips rolled. His eyes hooded. She rolled them again and watched the pleasure shoot across his face and told him, "I've been keeping you here to give my men time to work."

He jerked like she'd slapped him. Her body worked his, up and down, watching each other in the dark while the need built. It cut both ways, punishing her for the pain she'd cause him. It was the only way. This was getting out of control. She cared about him. She'd nearly lost her end game keeping him alive and protecting him. She needed him out of her so she could finish what she'd started. Someday, he might understand the whys of what she did.

For now, she just needed him on his guard and away from her, so she could finish it. So, she took his body, and fucked them both. He could have thrown her off, but he just let her take him.

Her voice was breathless as she confessed, his cock conquering her even as her body did the same. It was, and would be, always a double edged sword for them both. "...I put a bug on your phone the last time I saw you. I've been tracking all your calls and listening to every word. The second you contacted Hunnigan back there, I sent a team after Anita Muller. I'm not going to hand her over. I'm not going to give her to you to question...I'm having her executed on the spot."

The flash of anger hit the pleasure on his face. She rode faster, her skin flushing, his eyes dilating as he fought between rage and release. She nodded, gasping a little, voice high, "...yeah...I know you need him alive but I can't let the kid live either. When I find him, he's dead too. I'm done playing with you here. I can't let Wesker's kid live. If you get in my way..." She lost her voice as her body hit the edge of a climax. She keened, pinning his hands and watching his face as she came all over his lap.

Her mouth lowered. It rubbed at his. He groaned, and the anger on his face was scathing, it was almost as hot as his body inside of her. She finished, heart hammering, "...I can't let you stop me...stop fighting against me, Leon...and just...surrender...don't make me kill you..."

She surged up and came down. He made a sound like a moan and a curse. His hands came up and grabbed her face. He growled, "...could you?"

Ada gasped, body rolling, the ugly truth of it making the sex, somehow, hotter. "...yes...I won't let anything stop me. I can't...it's too late for that."

His angry bark of laughter made her jerk and gasp, "...liar...always the bitch, Ada."

And then he showed her how it felt when love turned to hate and hit the end of a possessive greed that was deep and wide and merciless. It drowned them both, making their eager cries echo each other. She made him take her, made it clear she'd already owned him, and let him try to kill her right there with that need.

He rolled her to her back in the seat and finished, punishing them both with the ferocity of his fucking. When he came in her, she whimpered, shaking beneath him.

The hate on him hurt her somehow, even as she reveled in the truth of it. There - no love, no lies, just truth. And maybe the first real time he'd ever seen _her. _She wanted, in that moment, to tell him her name. She wanted to say it, out loud, and let him hear it.

But she was Ada Wong.

She was the bitch in red.

And he would never see her any other way.

Ada claimed his mouth and he jerked out of her, shoving her across the seat as cursed. She hit the wall of the limo and gasped, "...I know it hurts. I know it does. I want you...I've always wanted you...but you're just a pawn in a bigger game. Work with me, or I will take you down beside the rest of them."

He jerked up his zipper and kicked the seat across from him. His rage boiled, sharp and fast, thick and real. "...you fucking bitch...what is this?! You keep me alive, you fuck me, you kiss me and curse me and leave me for dead...what is this_!?"_

Ada slid toward the door of the limo, "...I thought you knew what this was...it's how I control you. Just enough to keep you running back for more. Kill me and end it. Go ahead. Put a bullet through my head and finish me off."

He panted, staring at the ceiling, jaw clenched and pain tangible. Ada nodded, climbing from the car, "I know, baby, it hurts to lose. Tell me again how you love me. Say it- look at me and say it. You were always a fool, Leon. Love...it's not something you can feel for someone that doesn't exist. Ask yourself if you ever really believed it when you said it."

When the moonlight struck her, he demanded, "...tell me you never felt anything. Go ahead, pretend it was just a game for you. Say it and mean it. I saw your face. I saw it...when I was inside you. Maybe you lie to the world, Ada, but you can't lie to me. Not about that. Not anymore. I'll ask you one more time...what was this?"

She studied him, heart thudding. Her smile was sad when she answered, "...it was goodbye."

She paused, shaking a little, and finally added, "I think we both lost. You lost the idea of me...and I?...I lost the dream of you."

Voice thick, he wondered, "What dream was that?"

"...the one where the I love you is followed by the right name...and you say it to the right girl." Ada shook her head, "...stay out of my way from now on, Leon. I mean it. I've had a hard enough time keeping you alive. Stop touching on things you can't begin to understand. Stay away from Wesker's bloodline. Stay away from mine. You want to make a difference? Start looking at the people selling nightmares. Ask yourself why the ESR is suddenly making a name for itself. Look at the President and how she suddenly rose to power. Fight the fight you can _win..._and stop fighting the ones you can't."

She stared at the barrel of his gun on her as she shook her head, "...you won't do it. Maybe someday...but not now. Now? You still think you love the bitch in red you're aiming at...and you're not a man who can kill the woman he loves...for what it's worth...I'm sorry."

She closed the limo door.

He sat in the dark shaking. She'd screwed him - literally, figuratively, personally. She'd already taken out Anita Muller and was hunting the missing kid. She'd find him first, he had no doubt. She had fingers in pies in every part of the world.

It was time he stopped being one of them.

She was about to find out just large his net was. He was done trying to hold her. It was time he pulled the wings off that butterfly.

* * *

**_Post Note: _**_The game is winding down here. How does it end? Once blind, he can see her now. In Damnation, I think it's the first time he really starts to see her for what she is - a woman with her own agenda, and a willingness to see it through, no matter what it takes. Where he falls in that whole equation is a mystery...which is exactly why I wanted to write it, and find out for myself. _

_Thank you, as always, for coming along on this journey with me. It isn't sweet at all, it's like they are, dysfunctional, but under it all...kinda beautifully done. And maybe...the most honest love story out there. _


	15. Chapter 15

**Part Three: ****The Legend of Leon Kennedy**

* * *

**A conquest.**

**A request.**

**A final fight for what matters most.**

* * *

**Eastern Slav Republic - 2012**

* * *

They faced each other over the rubble, boy and girl, man and woman, pieces of a game they'd been playing since the moment they'd stood on that bridge all those years ago. Ada smiled sweetly, circling him in the dense fog of a freezing night. The whole of the city was burning around them. There wasn't enough left to scoop up with a spoon in the city ravaged by civil war.

"...what the hell are you doing here, Ada?"

She laughed, swirling with good humor. God_damn_ she'd missed his face. He haunted her wet dreams for months after she'd left him with blue balls and black memories of her. She wanted him, as she always did, in a visceral way that was endearingly physical.

She'd come to the ESR to get control of the dominant plaga. It was the only way to buy her way off the damn Most Wanted list. Somehow, someone had burned her and put her face on the wall of every bioterror defense agency out there. She was going to find out who'd sold her down the river, and enjoy killing them. In the mean time, she had to do what she did best here - find out why that bitch Svetlana was dealing in tyrants like trade agreements between China and the United States, and protect Leon Kennedy from his own selfless bravery.

"What else? I'm on holiday. The weather is so nice here this time of year...and you can't beat that view."

The view was broken down and burned out buildings. The war was claiming everything it touched. Lickers and B.O.W.S. ran the streets like the undead had in Raccoon City. There was nothing left worth saving here. They both knew it, but Leon...Leon wouldn't let it die. He'd keep trying to save one damn life after another.

Leon kicked the empty plagas injector case at his feet. "You steal this?"

Ada laughed again, "Please. I look like I'm hiding it?" The skinny little suit she wore was little more than pinstripes and a red blouse. Her long, long, long legs irritated him for some reason.

He snapped, "Goddamn it, Ada, stop fucking with me."

She tilted her head, "...oh, I have...maybe that's why you're so angry. You're still mad at me, huh?...suits you."

Annoyed, he turned away and Ada confessed, "...I like the anger on you, Leon...it's better than all that false humor you wear."

He grunted and made her smile. She listened to the sounds of battle and sighed, "...we ever gonna...carry on from that night?"

He laughed now, unable to stop himself, and smirked, "...any time but now."

"Right." She hesitated, enjoyed the moment anyway, and leaned in enough to brush noses as she cooed, "...this town will be purged soon...a word of advice...stop trying to be a hero and get the hell out of here."

He leaned closer. Their lips brushed and he flashed his teeth as he returned, "...just who I am, sweetheart, but I'll let you know if anything changes."

She hit the trigger of her slingshot, grabbed his face and kissed him hard, and it jerked her up and into the air as she let go. He cursed, she laughed musically, and she flipped onto the derelict roof to call down to him, "Stop being stupid...stop trying to be so fucking brave...get out...I'd hate to see you splattered on the side of a building."

He sighed as she disappeared and returned, "...ditto, kiddo..."

When she was gone, he sighed regretfully, "...women."

Whatever she was there for, it couldn't be good.

* * *

Ada hurried into the Hive to gather the samples she needed. She nearly leaped out of her skin as the voice taunted, "...well well well...miss me?"

On a laugh of derision, she answered, "You wish." She hurried toward the console, ignoring the gun Leon had on her. She started clicking and made him chuckle.

"I could shoot you, ya know."

"You won't." She sounded so certain he kinda wanted to, just to spite her as he wondered, "...what is that?"

She gestured with her head, "...that's what this bitch is protecting...you ever seen anything like it?"

Leon crouched to stare at the massive plaga in the tube that opened to reveal itself on the far wall. He whistled low and remarked, "...fucking plagas."

"Yes...but worse." Ada crouched beside him, "Hive mentality. That bitch is using the concept of Veronica and the ants to make bee based plagas. The idea, of course, is for a hive mentality. All we need...plagas with a fucking queen to follow."

Leon shook his head, laughing with irony, "...look at you, judging someone for following a queen. You been playing me like a queen to a bee all these years, princess. You gonna pretend you don't like it?"

He was cute when he was angry. She turned her head and grinned, "...don't be bitter, Leon...it makes you sound like a bitch."

And then?

They were surrounded by Svetlana and her men. With amusement, Ada warned him, "Careful of this one, Leon...she's more than just tits in a bad top."

"...say what?" He couldn't stop the laugh.

The world exploded, gun fire and madness. Ada rolled through the smoke and shot three men before they could take him out. She found cover and picked off four more, creating mass chaos so they started slaughtering each other instead. Someone shouted a cease fire and she left Leon to survive or die as she ran for it with her newly acquired sample.

Impressed with his survival, she tracked him as he made his way to the surface from the lab and took on a tyrant released from its bonds. Not just one, he took on two. All she had to do was rig the elevator to let him escape. As she watched him go, Ada sighed, "...my last gift to you...be careful, you fool."

It was time for her to gain her freedom and bargain with the thing that had once been inside of Leon...the way he'd once been inside of _her. _

* * *

The United States knew. They'd known all along what Svetlana was doing in the ESR. She'd been dealing bioweapons with their full knowledge. The horror of it left him breathless. His own people weren't even his people. They'd used him like...what? Bait? He had no clue.

He only knew the ESR was a bust. He'd saved no one. He'd done nothing. He'd made no difference, save to discover the duplicity of the people he served was never ending. He was, as he'd always been, just a gun in an army of them. He wasn't important.

He was innocuous the way the sun was in the dreary winter sky.

He shot back three more shots of vodka and ditched the call from Hunnigan. Who cared anymore what it meant to be a hero? He wasn't. He was as dirty as the next guy. He'd walked in there hoping to save lives and saved no one. Buddy was crippled, but alive...so maybe that was his win?

The United States knew about the bioweapons backdoor dealings. They knew, and did nothing. When the truth hit, they scrambled with Russia to clean up the mess, but it was too late. He knew they were all involved.

He knew.

Eventually, he'd die with the truth on his tongue like a confession.

He wasn't serving the good guys. He'd been serving the bad ones for so long he couldn't remember what it meant to be good. He was dirty, covered in defeat, and drunk. With a laugh of regret, he rose and stumbled painfully toward the door of his hotel room as a knock sounded.

He'd had the shit beat out of him by tyrants trying to save lives.

Instead, he was just sore and defeated.

The moment the door opened, he grunted, "...fuck off...I'm too tired to care."

Ada tilted her head, "Are you? You look like shit."

"...jesus..." He laughed and turned away, leaving the door open, "Come on in then...jump right into my misery...the waters warm. You want to fuck? I'm too sore, kiddo. You're gonna have to do all the work."

Amused, Ada closed the door behind her as she entered. She studied him as she staggered, limping painfully, toward the kitchen to pour more vodka. She decided this was how she helped him now.

She let him drink. She kept him liquored up. She got him in a warm bath and gave him pain meds. He slept, fitfully, and she climbed into the bed beside him to soothe him back to sleep.

She'd come to get intel...she stayed to take care of him.

She wasn't sure what it meant that he mattered to her.

It meant maybe it was time to reevaluate her plans for her future. What came after, she'd always known the plan...maybe it was time for the plan to include the possibility of another person. He was almost done, broken by the people he'd once thought were saviors. Could she lure him away with the promise of something greater than himself?

He awoke, blinking in the dark. They faced each other with their heads on the pillows in that bed.

Softly, Ada queried, "...feel better?"

He laughed, softly and sadly, "...sober and still fucked...not sure which is worse."

Ada lifted her hand. To his surprise, she laid it on his cheek and cupped it there, soothing,"...stop trying so hard to be a hero...just...be you."

His eyes flicked over her face. He wanted, desperately, to believe in something...in anything. She was offering him the chance to believe in himself. The problem? He wasn't sure what was left of him anymore.

So, he confessed, "...I don't like me very much...I'm lonely, Ada...I'm a little lost. I used to know what I was doing. I used to get up, get dressed, and know I was making a difference...I'm spending my life in a fight Ill never win...I don't know how to stop. Tell me how to stop."

She simply said, "...walk away. You've always had the power, Leon...so walk away. Find a sweet girl, have some babies, and say goodbye to what you think you should do. Maybe you can't destroy bioterror...but you can still have a good life. Stop fighting, and just...live."

With an almost gentle desperation, he queried, "...can you? Can you just walk away?"

Ada shook her head, "It's too late for me. I'm in it. I have to see it through...the only was for me to be free is to fight until it's over...even if it kills me first."

His brow knitted. "Freedom from what?"

And she simply scooted into him. He lifted his arm, she slid against his chest, and their mouths brushed sweetly. Her arms curled around his waist, he put his nose in her hair, and he just held on. Ada stroked his back gently and held him.

It was something she'd never done, not once, not for any one else in the world.

He mattered.

She had to decide what that meant for her end game.

She had to decide how to use him without seeing him hurt for it. She had to play her game now with the idea that, just maybe, it meant both of them made it out alive. She hated that she cared enough to want to protect him but she was also practical enough to know that she could use her feelings to an advantage too.

She didn't have to fake it as she held him. It was the first time she dropped her shields to just enjoy another person. She held him, listening to his heavy breathing as he slept, and she knew it changed everything to stay here beside him.

The end of the line was now going to cost her everything.

Somewhere out there, a woman with her face was fucking with her world. She'd discovered who was playing against her - herself. Someone was out there slandering her face all over their business. It was someone who, it seemed, was convinced she was the real Ada Wong. What did that mean? Who? Why? Where?

The questions were endless.

They started in Tall Oaks - that much she'd discovered play deep sea diver aboard that submarine shortly before she'd found Leon in the ESR. Someone was breeding something in Tall Oaks. Who? The President's Alma Mater was Ivy University. He was scheduled to have a speech there in a few months.

Someone was playing fast and loose with his life by playing god beneath the streets where the most powerful man in the Western World would be walking.

Who would risk that?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A simple text. A simple command. A simple answer.

Who?

Derek Simmons.

The text read - _Does he fuck better than me?_

And just like that, she knew who was behind her trouble.

It was her mistake - she'd let Simmons into her bed once in order to manipulate him for her free pass into the compound where he was keeping Sherry Birkin to get samples from her and the Hidalgo girl being kept there. She'd assumed he understood it was just once, just one time, and fair trade for business. She'd been dealing in power for sex all her life.

She wasn't interested in a relationship with a sniveling little weasel like Simmons, but him? He was obsessed with her. He wouldn't leave her alone. When she spurned his advances, he simply erupted with rage and obsession.

She knew it ended badly now.

She knew he'd target Leon if he hadn't already.

Had he sent Leon to the ESR on a bum mission simply to get him killed?

The truth hurt. She blinked. She felt Leon's warm breath on her neck as he shifted. He was awake. She knew that because his hands slid up under the shirt she wore to stroke her naked back.

Simmons would see him dead just for fucking her.

She'd endangered him without even trying. It was the one time she hadn't prepared for the consequences of sex. She'd assumed it would be easy. She thought men were simple.

Her face turned as Leon nuzzled his way to her mouth. They kissed, soft and sweet somehow.

It was never simple.

As the kiss broke, she lamented, "...men."

His eyes twinkled somehow in the shadows, "...women."

With a soft sound of surrender, she warned, "...I tried to stop this. I wanted it over. I needed it done. Do you understand why? Stop being so fucking blind, Leon. The people you're playing against, they'll see you dead."

He shrugged. He slid his hands up to find the latch on her bra. He freed it and cupped her breasts while her eyes flared and her breath hitched with excitement, "...yeah. I'm done caring."

He rolled her beneath him on a grunt of pain. Apparently, sex could motivate even the sorest of bodies. Somehow, he'd healed since she'd taken him to bed to soothe him. Something in him was simply incredible. The plagas, the natural T-immunity, the truth of who he was...he wasn't just a typical man. He'd never been. He was never meant to be a face in the crowd.

Now?

He was the only face she could see.

She was terrified of failing him.

She hated him for weaseling his way into her heart.

She had to stop Simmons. She knew, somehow, he'd cloned her to make his own Ada. It was horrifying. She needed to know the why, she needed to stop the how, she needed him _dead _to ensure he paid.

She'd have to use Leon...just one more time to end her game for her.

She was sorry for it, but it was just what she needed.

She opened her legs, opened her arms, and opened herself to the guilt of betraying him, just once more. Just this last time. Just to protect him. It was the only way she knew how to ensure the end she'd spent her whole life racing toward finally, finally, finally set them _both _free.


	16. Chapter 16

**Part Three: ****The Legend of Leon Kennedy**

* * *

**A battle.**

**A belief denied.**

**A truth that can't be concealed.**

* * *

**Tall Oaks - 2013**

* * *

His hand settled atop the gun aimed at her face in the darkness. She saw, in that moment, the hesitance she'd expected from the moment she knew he'd found the tape that showed the horror they were both envisioning. Her, but not her, arisen like a monster from an egg made of goo and nightmares.

The girl beside him gave Ada pause. The _righteous fool. _Surely he was kidding here. Surely...he had not bound himself to the woman responsible for the fall of an entire city. She knew, in her heart of hearts, he'd always partially blamed Ada for Raccoon City...but here and now...the girl in his care was, without a doubt, the reason Tall Oaks was burning above them.

The crypt, or what was left of it, around them belonged to Derek Simmons - the stupid bastard. He'd found a way to clone her. He'd found a way to copy her and a create a golem with her face. The obsessive stalker with more power than the dead president was now out there guiding her doppelganger to greatness and looking to see the end of the woman it shadowed.

It. Ada refused to refer to the woman wearing her face as anything more than an it. It was a creation. It needed stopped. She'd see it _burn _like the city brought down by her mechanization's.

Leon spoke into the quiet darkness, "...Ada."

Jesus, his voice was cold. She'd expected it, since he'd awoken alone after she'd fled him the last time. She had no choice, she had to, she'd known that night she was fighting now for them both. She couldn't _tell him that, _but it didn't change the truth.

So, she kept her face cold too, "Leon...you often go traipsing around crypts while the world burns?"

He shook his head as Helena Harper started to cry where she knelt beside him. Her sister had emerged from the goo filled egg like Ada's clone. She'd converted to something horrid and horrific. Ada had put her down with a clean bolt from her bowgun through the forehead.

It was mercy.

Although both of them were looking at her like she'd murdered a puppy.

Leon shook his head, refusing to engage in banter with her. That was the most alarming thing of all. He remarked, "...what are you doing here, Ada?"

He wanted to ask a much tougher question, she could see it on him. He wanted to ask _who are you, Ada? _But something checked the impulse. She knew what it was, of course, it was loyalty to the girl who knelt beside him. The stupid, insipid, emotional mess that had traded the safety of seventy thousand people for her very dead and mutated sister. Selfish, stupid, and worthy another bolt to the brains.

But, alas, Leon wouldn't likely let Ada murder the other woman in cold blood.

So, Ada told him, "There are forces at play here so much worse than you can imagine. Get out, get gone...and turn your attention to the people you can stop."

He paused. Ada tilted her head, "...ask. You know you want to...ask me."

He opened his mouth and the thing that had been Debra Harper rose up to try to kill her sister. They struggled, Leon kicked the bitch in the face for the effort, and the winged mess made a bigger one. She slapped the columns of the rickety remains where they stood.

The world shivered, they all stumbled and tumbled, and the platform collapsed.

A tumble, a terrible cry of fear from Helena, and Ada dangled by one tired hand. She thought - _this is how I go, falling to my death like a bad video game plot device. _

A familiar moment, it seemed, as Leon reached over the dangling dark and commanded, "Take my hand, Ada. Now."

She did. She'd dropped the last time. This time? She took the hand.

He tugged her up and she stumbled against him. He set her away like she'd caught fire and she shook her head. He wouldn't ask if she was real. He was afraid of her answer. She started to tell him and Helena screamed.

They raced toward the sounds of her struggle. There was no time for confessions now. Let him think she was evil. Let him think she was a monster. The sheer fortitude of him would push him toward finishing her off for it.

It was good to let him think she wasn't the woman he'd wanted most of his life.

She left him with a warning, with a fear of what she was, and with a purpose to pursue the truth. It was how she propelled him, it was how she'd _always _propelled him. Let him chase her. Let him follow her.

The answers were waiting for them both.

* * *

**Tatchi - 2013**

* * *

He stood in the swirling sea air and felt a kind of betrayal he'd never known. Ada...responsible for the horror of what had happened in Edonia? Ada? Ada...not human? Ada - a monster?

He just...he was...he wasn't...he couldn't understand it. He couldn't make sense of it. He'd stood on that bridge facing Redfield and couldn't defend her honor. He tried, he did, he waited for to defend herself and she'd stood there in that purple dress and smirked.

How?

Why?

He'd known, somewhere inside, that she'd been darker than he'd ever had the nerve to discover. He knew, in his guts, she wasn't entirely good...but evil? Evil? _Evil? _Was she?

He started to decide what it meant to have feelings for someone so convoluted and his communicator signaled in his ear. He touched it, brow furrowed, and Hunnigan informed him, "I've got an urgent mayday from a Captain Redfield?"

Leon instructed, "Patch him through."

He relayed the information about Sherry and Jake's abduction. He told about Simmons and his mutation. He informed the former S.T.A.R.S. sniper about the collusion between Simmons and various players within the U.S. government regarding the end of Tall Oaks and the assassination of Adam Benford. Chris agreed to locate and collect Sherry and Jake.

They could work together even if they fundamentally disagreed on who was responsible.

It didn't have to be personal.

And then? Then it just...was.

"Leon...wait..."

Leon paused and Helena halted on the stairs to head up to the main level. Simmons was dead. They'd battled to the point of nearly losing limbs and lives and leaving a floating mess in the water behind. He was dead.

It was over.

It was done.

Ada could be held accountable as soon as she was -"Ada Wong is dead."

The silence was so loud. It was loud. It hurt. He blinked. Helena gave him a slow, sad look. He'd heard that before though, hadn't he? He'd thought she was dead once before. She wasn't dead.

It made no sense.

He'd trusted Chris to save her life.

In his ear, Chris urged, "...Leon?"

"...I'm here." Leon inhaled sharply, "...thank you. I know you did what you could to prevent that."

Chris was so quiet. He finally came back, "...I wish I could say I'm sorry...what was she to you? And don't feed me some line about a witness."

Leon glanced over the long dark horizon, "...she was...a part of me I couldn't let go of."

Helena touched his arm in sympathy and Chris concluded, "...then I'm sorry for that...but I'm glad she's dead. Do yourself a favor and get out of there safe, ok?"

"...right. Kennedy, out."

He disconnected. He wanted to...what? Mourn her? Stupid to mourn a monster and a traitor. It was stupid to hurt for her. It was stupid to care. It was stupid to -

His ear buzzed again. Chris crackled on and shouted, "LEON! GET OUT OF THERE!"

It didn't matter anymore what he'd lost.

He was about to lose what little he had left.

* * *

**Tatchi - 2013**

* * *

Simmons tumbled to his back and was still. The walkway was long and splattered in blood. The gloved hand on her face brought her eyes fluttering as he urged, "...come on, sweetheart...not like this...come on...wake up for me, Ada. Wake up."

Wake up.

She'd been sleeping most of her life.

Didn't he understand that?

It wasn't like her to risk herself to save anyone. She'd nearly died granting him the chance to run. What was he doing here!?

Her eyes flickered open and she gasped, "...Leon! You idiot!"

Surprised, filthy, he almost laughed, "...that's how you say thank you?"

Ada sat up and swayed, head throbbing. Her shoulder throbbed with her head. Hurt. She was badly hurt. She didn't need a doctor to tell her that, but she gripped his vest and urged, "Go! I will hold him here, you fucking idiot, get out of here and run! Find the Birkin girl...she's alive? I made sure she got to you...you found her?"

Something flickered on his face. "...Sherry?"

"Yes...she was there...she was going to lose to that thing...I made sure she got out. I had to...she had-"

He cut her off, "She had all the information on the carrier of the antibodies."

Ada nodded, "...yes. _Fuck..._my head. I can't think. Where's Simmons?"

He shook his head, "Dead...again...for what it seems to be worth."

Ada shivered and started to get up. She ended up leaning on him for a moment as she mused, "...big hero moment for you, huh? How'd it feel?"

He didn't even tease her. He simply turned her face up and kissed her. It was...without a doubt...the most unlike her moment she'd ever had. Forget saving his life in a bid like a big hero herself and leaping down to take on a monster with nothing but a bowgun and a prayer...this...this goddamn damsel in distress moment...it wasn't _her. _She didn't kiss him back, but she let him do it.

She whispered, "...I was just resting my eyes."

He shook his head, eyes bright, and remarked, "...what are you?...why are you helping me?"

Ada told him earnestly, "I'm not a monster...you know that now...that thing- I made sure she burned like this fucking city. She won't be back. Make sure the people behind her pay...you hear me? Make them pay. That's in your power...this? It's in mine."

He looked confused before she grabbed his gun and turned his arm with hers, commanding, "Get down!"

He ducked, she used his hand to pull the trigger on his own gun, and Derek Simmons sliced the air above his head, took a heavy Magnum round to the face, and went tumbling off the walk way that shivered sadly. As it trembled and squealed with tortured metal, she grabbed his vest and demanded, "...my grapple gun...on my belt...hurry!"

He grabbed it, he looped the other arm around her, she kept her free hands on his Magnum and he fired the grapple gun. It whined, the world shimmered with heat, and they swung beautifully across the sky. He hired again, they were whipped upward, and landed together on a narrow out cropping.

As they gained their feet, Ada stumbled. He grabbed her arms and she shook her head, denying him, "I'm fine. Get to the helipad...I left you a present...I have things I have to see finished here."

"Ada.."He grabbed her chin to hold her gaze, "Goddamnit...come with me now. Just...let me protect you."

Oy.

She gave him a narrow look and jerked her chin from him. "Don't be trite, big hero, it's boring. Besides...there's already a girl up there waiting for you to save her. Do yourself a favor, make sure Harper sees the inside of a cell for what she's done. Don't let her get away with murder, Leon. Promise me."

He said nothing.

She shook her head, "...boy scout. She's not as bad as I am, but she's not good either. Look what a mess she made. You should have put her down...and you should have let me die...when will you learn?"

She grabbed his vest, jerked him forward, and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth, demanding, "...don't fucking die, boy scout."

She pressed a pink compact into his palm.

Her grapple gun went off, she swung away to his angry shout, and she hurried into the swirling sky.

She had a lab to destroy. It was time to make sure the C-Virus never made another clone. This was how she made it right for her complicity in Raccoon City. This was how she avenged those they'd lost.

It was all she could do.

* * *

**New York City - 2013**

* * *

The compact on his dresser taunted him.

Inside it, they'd found everything they needed to clear his name, everything they needed to bring down those behind the C-Virus. Ada had handed him a win bigger than he'd found in years.

Why?

What was her game here?

Sherry was safe and Jake in the hands of the right people to be properly debriefed. The biological offspring of Albert Wesker had been the target of one too many eager conglomerates trying to steal his blood for their own purposes. He was better kept away from the bioterror world for multiple reasons.

They'd crafted a vaccine with his antibodies. They couldn't manage a cure, but they could stop it before it started. Sometimes, that was the best you could do in bio-warfare. It was the best win they'd had in the battle in a long time.

The toll of death was so high that it negated the win. Leon mourned Benford who'd been like a father to him most of his life. He'd failed him in that city, failed him and left behind those he might have saved to be sanitized. He grieved the losses so badly that it left him breathless as he drank too much and passed out in the hotel room they'd set up for him.

The more he dug into Ada, the more ugly truth he found - Simmons had cloned her...why? The why appeared to be obsession. He was in love with the "bitch in red" the way any sniveling sad sack tended to be. He wanted her enough to make an inferior version of her for his nefarious purposes.

Apparently, Leon wasn't the only fool in the fire burning for a woman who would betray them all.

The data on the little card she'd left them pointed fingers at a ship called The Pandora. It was one of those things that should have been sunk years ago. It was said it was manned by a skeleton crew to keep what was contained within safe from human consumption.

The Pandora was the mythical box it pretended to be. It was home to things that, if released, would poison populations to the point of global extinction. To leave it floating was the safest option out there. If it hit the water, most of the diseases kept aboard it would be neutralized. The T-Abyss virus wasn't stored there, and as far as anyone knew, none of the other viruses were aquatic.

But it was there, waiting for someone to board it and discover it's secrets.

Leon knew they'd go after The Pandora to collect her latent viruses and store them in the CDC for study. He...was afraid they'd get there hands on things that were so much worse than the T-Virus. He was afraid if he didn't get there first, the Pandora would open her box and the world would fall prey to her whims.

He was about to break orders and protocol and bring her down himself. They'd expressly forbade him from doing so. He was told, without compunction, that doing that would rate him a traitor and enemy of the state and he would be tried for treason.

He was risking everything to decide if destroying The Pandora was worth his life.

What if he took it down and finally, finally, finally saw an end to the war?

What if everything they'd been fighting found it's roots right there on that ship?

He was about to prove he was no boy scout. He was going to raid The Pandora, and court the bad side to save the good. He was pretty sure that act alone would lose him any merit badges they wanted to pin to his vest.

He knew Ada would try to stop him. Of course she would, it was who she was. She'd never intended, he was certain, for The Pandora to fall into his hands. Hell, if he was so good at encryption, he'd have never deciphered the text within the data to find the location. She couldn't know he'd crack it. She under estimated him all the time.

He had to destroy it before she could stop him.

For what it was worth, he was aware of what he felt for her. He could acknowledge, here and now, that he was in love with what was likely a figment of a real woman. He knew he was no better than Simmons, clamoring for affection of a liar and a spy.

But he knew he'd kill her if it meant the safety of the rest of the world. He'd do it...and he'd mourn her. He'd done so on that dock in Tatchi. He'd mourned her. He hated himself for loving her.

He hated her for giving him just enough to keep him coming back for more. He hated that even knowing what she was, what she'd do, what she'd put first...he couldn't stop the need for her. Was she good? Was she evil?

Who the hell knew anymore. What divide existed to determine which side was good and which was bad? His "masters" were corrupted. He'd been serving the goddamn liar Simmons for so long he was likely as responsible as Ada for most of the mess they were in. Even if his was indirectly done and hers was purposeful, did it matter? He'd done the bad for the right reasons...but it didn't negate the act itself.

He had to set it right. Sinking The Pandora just might redeem him. If he had to, he'd take Ada down with it. Maybe that was how he saved the world...maybe it came with taking Ada Wong down. Whatever her end game, he couldn't risk her stopping him.

To save the world...he'd likely have to shatter his own heart. What had she said? Big hero. The bad news? The hero seldom ever survived his final battle. He was ok with dying as long as it meant something.

Would it?

Would it mean anything if he died saving the world?

It might...to the very person he'd likely have to take with him when he went.

So...it was a race against a woman who'd been one step ahead of him for far too long.

He was officially on borrowed time.

They were about to find out which side would win - the problem was...he wasn't sure which side he was even on anymore.


	17. Chapter 17

**Part Four: **

**An End without End...Amen.**

* * *

**_A final fucking._**

**_A path to redemption._**

**_A dance in the deep, dark, dangerous sea._**

* * *

**The Pandora- 2013**

* * *

The rain was still falling when they took her. She barely set a foot on the deck before she was placed into custody. They weren't gentle. They beat the shit out of her for her betrayals.

Sadly, Ada had known that was coming. She'd sat in her loft and said goodbye to the life she'd cultivated from regret and determination. She'd never return to it. Her days in the dark were over. She was ready, and had been for some time, to give up the shadows for the sunlight.

She knew that future came at the expensive of a sacrifice. She was about to find out how big of one.

Tied to the chair, her face swollen and bleeding, she watched the man ready a needle. They'd hit her first with sodium pentathol as if they'd needed to extract secrets from her. She was an open book, she confessed, and she did it in her own way - with flair.

"I burned everything I had to the ground eight days ago."

One of them struck her again in the swollen left side of her face. She felt the cheekbone fracture, but that was ok. She'd lived through worse. Spitting blood, she laughed, "You think beating me will bring it back? It's gone. I'd gathered every last fucking virus you've made...and I made damn sure the replications went down in flames."

Annoyed, the man above her sneered, "You ungrateful bitch...all this time, all this opportunity...and you turn it into a game for your own freedom. Burning those samples bought you a grave, you stupid whore, not your freedom."

Ada laughed again, teeth bathed in blood, "The end game was always destruction, you insipid simpleton. I wanted them all...so I could watch them all burn. Now you have nothing but what's on this ship. You have no back up plan, no secret lab...I've torched those, I've taken from you, you've _paid _me to rob you blind. What I gave you...most of it was false, most of it was fake...I took the real samples for myself and fucked you standing with your own arrogance."

He hit her again. She laughed, face throbbing, "Yeah, betrayal hurts, baby. I know it does. You better kill me, you stupid bastard, or I'll burn this ship next."

The knife in his hand rammed into her ribs. She gasped, eyes flaring with pain, and he twisted it as he kept it buried inside of her. She jerked in pain, voice high and breathy, "...you always were a lousy lay, Burton. Even your killing is as passive aggressive as your fucking was."

Barry Burton rose to his full height and turned to his partner. "I told you women aren't with the time it takes to get your dick wet in one. I told you...and yet here we are. What now?"

The silver haired man in question tilted his head at her. She smiled back and he remarked, "You surprise me, Ms. Wong. I thought we were on the same page about betrayal. Apparently, I was right to have waited here for you to attempt your final coup. Sadly for you, it's the last one you'll ever stage."

Ada grinned, "Many have tried, Glenn...and now have succeeded. Ask Albert Wesker what it means to betray me."

Barry snorted, "He was always a simpleton. He kept thinking he had the upper hand in Raccoon. I played that idiot like a game of Texas Hold 'Em."

Ada laughed in return, "Sure you did. You're a real mastermind, Burton. You tricked everybody, huh? Nobody ever suspected you of being a real bastard...well...besides your own daughter."

He'd looked mollified and preening before she'd delivered that parting shot. Now he looked pissed and over it. He hit her, open handed and insulting, and made her breath catch with the pain. After a moment, Glenn Arias tilted his head,

The alarms signaled and suggested they were no longer alone.

Amused, he wondered, "You bring your pet to play, Ada?"

She smiled snidely, "I brought your weapon to kill you, Arias. You and that fool Simmons trying to build an empire and use a man like that as a puppet. He's here now to make sure you see how grateful he is for all the time and training invested in him. He's here to finish the fucking job you paid me to do."

Arias said nothing. Burton cursed, "Kennedy. Second level lab area. He's got a fuckin flamethrower. He's torching everything."

Ada kept on smiling, "He's not the most delicate man, but he gets the job done. Like me, he knows when fire needs to purify."

Arais instructed, "Set loose the B.O.W.S. He might be good, but he's only one man. Get them down there to finish him off. In fact..." He turned to hit the intercom and invited, "Mr. Kennedy...a rare moment of reckoning is upon you. I have here your patron of lost causes, Ms. Wong. She's...well there's no way to put this delicately...she's dying. Slowly. She's been stabbed, I'm afraid, in somewhere vital. She might have a half an hour before she bleeds out...can you find her? Or will you let her die while you waste your time laying waste to her own playground?"

After a pause of sound, he added, "Yes. She was once my best, you see...sadly, she seems to have left her drive in her cunt. You must be the best in the world in more ways than one, I'm afraid, as she's willing to die for it. Tick tock, Mr. Kennedy. The choice is yours. It's the last one you'll ever get."

He signed off and instructed, "The escape pod, Burton, now."

As they passed her, Ada mused, "Leaving the party early, Glenn? You always were a premature evacuator."

He simply paused, lowered his mouth, and kissed the top of her head, "Rest in pieces, Ms. Wong. You were always my favorite. A shame you're nothing but a stupid bitch under all that potential."

Ada shivered in her seat as the blood loss and the pain made her light headed. She heard their footsteps retreat and heard the crackle of Leon's voice on the intercom. "Ada!? Can you hear me!? I'm on my way! Stay alive!"

Ada whispered, "...stupid, wonderful boy scout...finish the fucking job and _forget me."_

* * *

The cool hands on her face brought her awake with a small gasp. He looked so pale crouched in front of her. She felt her numb lips move and remark, "...long time, no see."

Leon shook his head and told her, "It's deep...if I pull it out-"

Ada shook her head to stop him, "It's ok. I knew that. I knew it when he stabbed me. It's tampenading the wood right now...the second you pull it, I'll bleed out."

Leon looked so distraught that she wanted to soothe him. So, she tried, "...It doesn't hurt."

That sounded conciliatory, right?

He shook his head and warned her, "...we have minutes here, Ada...maybe less. There's too many. They opened every cage and drained every tank. This place is crawling with nasties. I don't know how to get you out and protect you."

Touched, she tilted her head, "...there's no getting me out, Leon. You know that. You knew it the second he taunted you. I'm dead. It's time for you to finish this fucking thing and me with it."

He rose and turned and her heart...her heart..._her heart. _It stopped, because he was sliced from hip to tit across his chest. The vest he wore was trash. The damage was done. He was bleeding so badly it had puddled with her blood on the floor. His blood was on her knees where it dripped. His blood, her blood, _their _blood..it was bad. It was the worst they'd ever been.

She whispered, "...what did you _do?"_

He shrugged and returned, "...it doesn't hurt."

She couldn't stop the smile.

He told her, "I can still fight, but I don't know for how long. Tell me how to end it...you knew I'd come. You were waiting...they all were, but they thought I'd fail. They thought I'd quit. I made a fucking vow to scrub the world of Umbrella...I'm here to finish that...help me."

Ada shivered and tugged on her hands, "Cut me loose...hurry."

He did, helping her rise with a gasp as the knife embedded further into her damn rib cage. She used his support to guide them both toward the door that wasn't currently trying to rip off the hinges with monsters attempting to kill them. He leaned her against the console there and she informed him, "Arias was trying to escape...there's no telling what he took with him."

Leon returned, "It wouldn't be much. I sabotaged his chopper before I came below deck. The only way he's getting off is by life boat. The lab was the first stop, it's toast. Anything he's taking with him was in his possession before I arrived."

Ada gave him a look of pride, "...good boy."

"Don't patronize me, Ada...just finish it."

She keyed in a code and told him, "Classic Umbrella, right? Self destruct sequence."

"Is there any other way?"

The alarm blared, the door jerked hard, and he warned her, "...stay behind me."

Touched, she almost cooed at him for the last time when the door burst open and the world went hot with battle. She grabbed his spare piece to stand beside him, the monsters came boiling through and she shouted, "Follow me! NOW!"

They backed up, they moved as fast as two dying people could, and she took him further inward until they came upon the ship's captains quarters. She slammed the door, sealed it, and gasped, "...the combination will be butterfly, bee, and buffalo."

There was a small device against the wall. Leon turned it, putting in the combination, "Do I want to know?"

She leaned heavily on the wall and murmured, "...three ways to fight...float like a butterfly..."

"...sting like a bee...stampede like a buffalo...got it." He glanced at her as the wall shimmered open and revealed a single escape pod. It was equipped for one person - Arias no doubt - in the event of complete saturation.

Ada told him, "Get in it, go...you have a chance to save yourself. Do the right thing and take it."

He started toward her. She backed up and gasped, head swimming with pain, "...dammit, Leon, I _mean it. _It's done. What I wanted from you? It's finished. It finished here...I made sure you'd find the clue. I made sure you'd come. I've been using you, always using you, for this...to finish this for me...the dying part sucks...but I was always prepared for the possibility. I knew I'd have to be here, in peril, to get you to fight your hardest. I played you...but you can still win...let me die the hero here...let me go down with the ship and run..."

They stared at each other until he remarked, "...I've always known, Ada. You think I ever believed you cared about me?"

Her heart hurt as she shook her head, "I always cared, Leon...I just didn't care enough."

Jesus.

He backed up. She nodded, "Yeah. Exactly. _Go. _Please? Go."

The door shivered with assault behind her. She grabbed for the big gun on the desk and hefted it against her side. Leon glanced at the pod and back at her face. Ada gestured with her head, "...go. Go now, while you can. Let me do at least this for you. At least this one thing. Please."

He hesitated. "You gonna shoot me if I don't?"

"...yes."

He laughed sharply, "...then do it...but I don't think you can."

The door creaked and gave up and he started to grab for her to probably throw her in the pod. She shot him from three feet away for it. It hit him in the shoulder and spun him around. He went to the floor on his hands and knees and she shouted, "Fool! Why can't you just let me die!? You fucking boy scout!"

His vision wavered. He crawled, bleeding all over the floor. He gave up and went down on his face, grunting, "...always the hero, right? Even when the person you're trying to save is the bad guy."

Ada crouched beside him, face collapsed in lines of regret, "I was never the bad guy...I just wasn't the good one either. You stupid...wonderful...incredible fool."

She hit him in the back of the head with her gun and the world went dark while the door burst open behind them and filled the dark with all the things he'd once promised to destroy.

The last sound he heard was the gunfire of the woman who'd shot him, and now rose above him to defend him.

Maybe she hadn't given him love, but she'd given him something to fight for. Somehow, he'd always trusted her. Somehow, he'd always followed her.

And yet she'd had him all along...and he? He could never quite catch her.

Of course, you could never really catch a butterfly.

And the sound of her wings chased him down toward the only peace he'd ever known.

Part of him had always known she would be the death of him.

* * *

_**So you see, dear readers, there's no way to hold the thing that eludes you. Sometimes it's just the thing that tempts you to your own darkness. Sometimes it's the thing that offers you redemption.**_

_**Sometimes it hurts you to heal you.**_

_**Sometimes it hurts you to hold you.**_

_**Sometimes it hurts you to help you.**_

_**For our hero and his greatest weakness, it might have ended in a bloody battle at the bottom of the sea...or...?**_

_**It might have ended just like this...**_

* * *

The sound of the ocean was heavy in his head.

The rush and whoosh of waves worked into his dreams and became part of his ears while he lingered in the lull of it.

The first moment he realized he wasn't dead, he could smell fire. With a gasp, he sat up on the bed and grabbed for his gun. His hand closed over nothing, his other grabbed the throat of the person above him, and he threw them into the wall beside him.

There was a grunt from his attacker, a gasp, and he pinned them to the bed beneath him.

Ada.

Ada.

"..._Ada?!"_

It was...and it wasn't.

The thick inky dark curls surrounded her back and hips. The face was still porcelain, still perfect, still purely beautiful like a white tiger or an exotic bird. It was Ada Wong, but the rest of her wasn't.

She was tanned and soft somehow. The dress she wore wasn't red, it was white and loose. It flowed in the hot breeze through the open window. The hut where he found them smelled of beach and beautiful salty sea air.

Beneath him, with his hand on her throat, the long haired Ada Wong mused, "...going to finish the job then?"

Leon shivered, feeling alert with adrenaline and alive with questions, "...we didn't die?"

She laughed, softly, and shook her head, "The escape pod got us to the surface, but nowhere else. I managed to secure enough of the door to make a damn raft."

He blinked down at her, "...you paddle row us here?"

She laughed again, "It wasn't far. The location of the Pandora was adjacent to a chain of islands that are sparsely inhabited. This one is called Kismet."

His eyes flickered, "...you fucking with me?"

She tilted her head, "Your hand is around my throat...do I look like I'd fuck with you?"

His gaze trailed down her body to her breasts in that loose dress. They were perfectly imprinted. He could almost see her nipples. He had the urge to shift his chest and feel them brush against him.

Amused, he shook his head, "...how long?"

Ada smiled gently, "You've been in and out for about three weeks."

He furrowed his brows, "...your hair..."

She smiled again. Her hands lifted and skimmed up his back. He tensed, looking at her like he expected her to strike and sever his jugular. She understood the impulse, after all, she'd shot him the last time he'd seen her. It was, of course, for his own good, but it turned out she knew if she stuffed him in that pod, he'd never survive once he hit the surface.

So...she'd climbed in with him.

At the surface, she just had to keep them afloat until help had come. It wasn't long. She had helped strewn over the islands waiting for her return. They'd set them up in a hut and she'd kept to tending Leon herself.

Her hand skimmed the bundle of scars over his left ribs and she murmured, "This nearly killed you...and then? You...did that thing you do...you started healing in a way you shouldn't. You survived the fever and the infection...why?"

He laughed and shook his head with ire, "Who knows? You know. We both do. I haven't been just a rookie in a dirty city in a long, long, long time."

Ada nodded and stroked her hand over his lower spine. She dipped her fingers against the curve of it and touched the top of his ass. He arched a brow and she mused, "...you healed these quickly after that..but you're scarred."

Leon shrugged, "Who cares? It's no a beauty contest. What does the world think?"

Her mouth twitched, "...that you died being a hero. What else? Your government disavowed you. You're considered killed in action. In fact, you're a bit of a traitor in the right circles. You disobeyed orders after all.

He tensed and demanded, "Is it over? Did it work?"

Ada nodded, "It's gone...and long gone. There's nothing left of Pandora's Box but a memory now."

His hand squeezed on her throat. "You used me."

She nodded.

"You lied to me."

She nodded again.

His lip curled up, "Anything you tell me the truth?"

She nodded and he demanded, "What? Name one damn thing that's the truth."

And she said, "I cared enough about you to risk everything."

He snorted. She gave him sad eyes and added, "Ask me anything you want. We're both dead now, Leon. We're both dead to the world. So, ask me. It's over for me. I've done what I needed. I've destroyed those who spent a life time trying to own me...ask."

So, he did, "...who are you?"

He barely breathed as answered, "I'll tell you a story about a girl who became a liar (***1**). Fong Ling's parents died shortly after her birth, leaving herself and her brother as orphans. Adopted by the state, she was raised to become an intelligence agent. When the state became suspicious of her brother's potential counter-revolutionary role as a pro-democracy activist, she was ordered to arrest him. Never questioning the actions of her superiors, she did so, allowing him to be executed by the state on the very same day. Over time, Fong Ling grew a reputation for her unquestionable loyalties, and effectively became a poster child for the ministry's hunt for spies and counter-revolutionary members. She was the perfect weapon...bred and born to be a loyal machine."

When he simply stared, she went on. "When the former Umbrella Corporation researcher-turned-terrorist Morpheus D. Duvall, having gained possession of stolen t-Virus samples, threatened the American and Chinese governments that he would launch missiles containing the virus at major cities in their respective countries if he didn't get $5 Billion, Ling, being the MSS' best agent, was dispatched to Morpheus' ship, the Spencer Rain, in order to stop him. Her American counterpart was Bruce McGivern, a covert agent working for the anti-Umbrella pursuit team, a subsidiary of the US-STRATCOM."

Leon went so still that she finally added, "You knew him?"

He shook his head, "...of him. I knew of him...he died on duty."

She nodded, eyes soft, "Fong Ling came to care for him. When she lost him, she knew she'd been betrayed by her own organization. Umbrella had created a mastermind of a million small moles within their inner sanctum. She decided it was time to get revenge for the family she'd lost and life she'd given up to serve masters who made monsters."

The look on his face made her say gently, "...you understand now why I chose you."

He said nothing.

So, she told him, "We share a lot of things in common, Leon. Only you never went too far to find answers. You never became the thing you'd started out fighting. I began to believe in each I.D. I created for myself. I began to form different personalities and different feelings. I was the perfect chameleon. The day I walked into Raccoon City, I was Ada Wong."

She studied his face, "I've been Ada Wong ever since."

They stared at each other until Leon rolled away from her. She lay on the bed, watching him find his feet and pace naked in the hut. She doubted the day would come that she didn't enjoy the show.

Annoyed, he spat, "Why not just tell me all this? Why wait all this time...why tell me _now?"_

She leaned on her elbow and remarked, "There's nothing left for me to avenge. It's over. It's done. Wesker murdered my family and he's dead. The viruses that plagued my village are gone. The world doesn't need saving anymore...you took care of that. It's just you here...and me...and I want you to know me."

He froze. He arched both brows and she invited, "Yes. Know me. I'm not simple, Leon. I was never easy. The game is over, if you want it to be. I will try to be as open as I wanted to be that moment on the bridge when you taunted me to shoot you...and I _knew _I couldn't."

He growled, "You shot me on the ship."

"...yes...to save you. I'd do it again, if I had to."

He paced. He shook his head. He looked so angry, "...so what now? You want me to just...call you Fong? Or whatever?"

...I can be whatever name you want. I've been Ada Wong since three days before Raccoon City. I can be her for you. I have been more Ada than I was ever really Fong."

He shook his head. He inhaled sharply, "...I don't know who the hell you are."

She smiled sadly, "No, but you never did. What's changed now? There's no danger. There's no drama. There's just us...what do you want, Leon? Finally...what do you want?"

He whipped around to face her, "The truth - did you ever love me?"

So, she gave the truth, "...no."

He laughed with anger and she added, "But I wanted to."

He paused now, head tilted, and she clarified, "I want to now. I _want _you." She touched a hand to her chest and urged, "I want to be with you. I haven't wanted that since Bruce. I haven't wanted that, like this, _ever _in my whole life. I don't know what that means. I don't know what you want...but you can take all the time you need to decide."

He left the hut stark naked.

Her eyes flickered shut.

He didn't say no. He didn't say yes either. He was so angry. She couldn't blame him. She'd used him, manipulated him, shot him, and essentially left him dead to the rest of the world. She was a fraud, a liar, a many faced medusa whose look turned him to stone and forced him to spend a life time trying to catch her.

She thought of Bruce and his smile. They'd had a handful of moments together then. It was never the same. This...Leon...he was something she didn't expect to want. She didn't want to want him. That was the whole issue of what they were doing here.

She'd never intended to care about him.

Love?

She wasn't sure she was capable of it in the way he was, but it was the first time she wanted to try.

After a moment, he emerged into the hut once more. Ada sat up on the bed and he snapped, "What's for dinner? I'm starving."

Her mouth twitched. She pushed her hair back behind her ears and mused, "...fish. What else?"

Leon turned away and warned her, "I don't know how long I'll be able to live with this...but I spent a life time trying to know you, Ada...what's a few more days?"

He left the hut.

Ada closed her eyes.

A few days.

A life time.

It all came down to whether or not she could get a hero to fall in love with a woman and let go of a butterfly.


End file.
